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Simulation Against Shadows
The stars were slowly appearing in the sky as Tom, Madzistrale and Gabzryel were still seated upon the soft grass, their mouth open as Belladonna finished her incredible story.
“Now you know how you are here,” the librarian concluded.
“One thing that I don’t understand, if I may,” Madzistrale shyly asked.
“Of course.”
“If these people are that dangerous, why can’t you interfere yourself? You seem able enough, if you can use your knowledge to bring us here…”
“Because I am born here, in this world. There’s a difference between being able to move freely between worlds, and affecting other worlds, but the simple fact of belonging to one’s native world is what prevents that person from affecting its native world,” Belladonna explained. “You can affect my world for you are not native to it and can thus use the advantage of the power that it gives you. But you cannot do the same when you wake to your own world. The same on my side: I can fetch you and guide you to my native world through using my powers in your world, but I cannot affect in that way my own world.”
“So what Mad and Tom have been able to do or execute in your world is exactly because of the fact they are visiting it. But hence why none of us can do what they did here in our own world. Hence why that even though you know something evil is happening to your city, you can’t fight it the way we and others like us could using the Orb Weaver method,” Gabzryel resumed.
“Exactly! And I do love the name you gave it; here, we gave them the acronym M.U.T.” Belladonna smirked.
“Gab’s idea, based on our own native ancestry,” Madzistrale proudly explained.
“In Algonquian mythology, the Orb Weaver (a spider that makes the perfect web), is guardian of dreams, but also of other realms. We realized that the two were inseparable. Dreams were only, theoretically, travels to other realms.”
“I will always find it amazing that so many cultures around the worlds shared the same concepts,” Belladonna mused. “My own tribe knew of it even before the Evropan conquered our land.”
“So… you’ve managed to find us and guide us here, so we can help you and the people of this city. Why didn’t you ask the people itself to wake up?” Madzistrale asked, puzzled.
“Number one reason: have you tried awakening your own people to what is going wrongly in your own world? Did you have much success?”
“...Not quite,” Madzistrale pouted.
Belladonna smiled sadly, and continued:
“Second reason: because you want to be heroes, and that intent has resonated to those who know how to listen. You get hunches, déja-vus, and intuitive warnings from other realms that instructs you how to react in your world; I’ve simply used the same principle. And I’ve had the luck to meet a regular visitor at my library, awhile back, someone who knew your friend here,” she winked at Gabzryel; he looked down at the diamond that she gave him early on. “We both win: it is a simulation for you, in order to prepare you at what to expect from your own world. And for me, I can finally do something to help protect the city and the innocent people here that want nothing to do with what is being implemented. Right now, I am merely giving you information of what is happening, and I am merely telling you how you could stop it. You are however free to return to your world and not help. It is not your world after all, and even if it would be, you have the free will to refuse fighting. I do not wish to persuade you or influence you to fight here. I have merely been aware of your inclinations to do good, and wished to warn you of a possible threat. Whether you believe in my words and follow them, or dismiss them, is your choice alone.”
Tom, Madzistrale, and Gabzryel looked at one another with the same thought: did they believed her. The silent answer was quickly an undeniable yes.
“What about these guys?” Madzistrale nodded toward the glass towers of the city below them. “What about the citizens? They can’t all possibly agree to this?”
“It depends if they are told the truth,” Tom replied gloomily. “Think about it, Mad. How well do you actually know what is happening in the world? All you are exposed is what a few persons decide to tell you; how would you know if there is something else going on? Isn’t it why we ourselves train to figure it out?”
“And give the population someone enoughly charming and convincing, and they won’t even think to look deeper,” Gabzryel added. “How many leaders have our own people followed blindly? How many horrors could have been averted had people doubted the ‘charisma’ and the ‘good words’ of their leaders?”
“Can’t you convince the people here?” Madzistrale asked Belladonna.
“Me and like-minded people are trying the best we can. But people like you have... advantages over us and the people here. Few individuals that can’t be killed gets more work done than an entire mortal army.”
“I do want to let my friends accept the simulation, but I never quite knew what does happen if we die here, and I can’t risk...” Gabzryel asked worriedly.
Belladonna shook her head, and smiled reassuringly;
“Your current body that you see here does not belong to this world, it is a creation of your spirit to keep itself grounded in some extent of reality. The only result of your death here will be you waking up in your original world. But you won’t be able to return here; the link will be severed.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
» Imagine two balls, linked with a thread. If you cut the thread at one extremity, the thread will still be linked to the other extremity. But now, the thread can’t be linked again to the other ball. If we now use this example, before the thread had been cut, something could have moved along it between the two balls. Now the thread is cut, the bridge is non-existent. Some are strong enough, though, to resist ‘dying’. Their ‘thread’ is stronger; you can weaken it, but not cut it fully; or if yes, it takes time and strength. That is no reason however to be careless. In most cases, you can afford to die in a dream. But during a mission, it is best to avoid dying, because then you won’t be able to return to that mission.”
“You seem to talk as if we accepted the mission,” Gabzryel joked.
“In truth, I gather that you have already accepted, starting from the night you decided to return here; or else you would be waking up right now.”
“Well, we officially accept; it might help us for our own world,” Tom replied.
“It will help. What is happening in this world also happens in countless other worlds, at varying rate, danger, and scenarios. It is an inevitable battle for all, for the shadows are a counterpart to light; such is the paradigm that few can grasp.”
“Will stopping it here make any difference?” Madzistrale asked, worried.
“It always does. Even if for a short time. You will show to the people that the darkness they fear is only an inanimate force; it can only affect them if they themselves allow it to become an actual thought, an actual presence.”
“Beside, we were looking for a simulation,” Tom reasoned.
“I would only ask that you be careful and remember that many soldiers in a war do not wish to fight, and many wars are never nearly as one-sided as shown. Do not add any more reasons for darkness to exist,” Belladonna urged them. “So many people fight because of hear-say, and because of ghosts from the past; but they were never shown the reality of the situation, or even whether the conflict still affects them and their own families. Is a grudge from 200 years ago worth fighting your comrades and fellows in the present? This is a concept often forgotten in conflicts.”
Her words dawned on the trio. They stayed silent until Madzistrale realized she wanted to ask something ever since:
“Are we the only ones that can do... what we’re doing?”
“No,” Belladonna laughed softly, as if the mere thought was funny. “Every beings (well, almost every beings) are capable of such travels, at different depth and level. In your own world, I am sure you have reports of apparitions, glitches, mysterious people appearing and disappearing, anything having to do with temporal glitches.”
The heroes nodded, remembering some of Gabzryel’s old files on such mysteries.
She rose to her feet, and looked toward the stars.
“I have to go now, my husband will be back from work. If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask me.”
“How?” Madzistrale wondered.
“She’s a librarian, bakka. It’s called going to see her at her library,” Gabzryel teased her.
Belladonna laughed softly, and walked away, waving them goodbye. She paused and turned to them;
“Just as a warning, there is one other M.U.T. beside you in this world specifically, in an active and direct relation to the nature of your mission. I suggest you take interest in him; you will recognize him by his shimmering, although it will look faded. He has taken a strong liking to this world, so he is starting to assimilate within it, taking more and more physicality as each day passes.”
“Thanks?… Anything more specific?” Madzistrale asked, worried.
Belladonna chuckled again.
“That would be cheating! You won’t have someone tell you whom is whom in your own world, wouldn’t you? Or maybe yes, depending if its Her... But no, no cheating!”
“Okay, okay,” Madzistrale pouted.
They waved goodbye and Belladonna disappeared behind the hill.
The heroes looked at one another.
“Well... shall we start?”
“You guys go ahead, I’m waking up; someone has to look after you,” Gabzryel replied, annoyed to have been forcefully taken away from his post. “Beside, I think I have passed the time where I need to take my meds…”
Madzistrale and Tom looked at each other, amused, and started climbing down the hill as their eccentric friend disappeared behind them. The feeling of doing something important this time was burning in their soul, and they were determined.
“But first, let’s find a motel; I don’t want to wake up and miss the opportune moment when we return,” Madzistrale suddenly suggested.
Tom realized that she was right, for it was night and entrance to the Capitoline would be closed at this hour, so he took her hand in a protective manner, and they both walked toward the glass city.