{Onto-Topographic_Bookmark_Registry_Recall_Enacted}
{Verifying_Authorization}
. . .
{Verification_***_*****_****_Confirmed_and_Authorized}
{Recovering_Continuity_Stream_Null-Alpha_0001}
. . . . . .
{Recovery_Successful}
{Resuming_Calibration_From_Interim}
. . . . . . . . .
{Calibration_Sequence_Verified_and_Stable/Resynchronization_To_Core_Variable_ZERO_ZERO_ZERO_ONE_Established_and_Verified_Stable}
{Recommencing_Immersion_From_Anchor_Decoherence_Bookmarked}
{Injection_To_Bookmark_Null-Alpha_0001_Imminent}
. . . . . . . . . . . .
(((Don't Forget Your Paradigm)))
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
"I am not Lee, and Lee is not Me."
I turned away from the fourth wall, trembling from the forcible interaction, looking upwards into an abyss without beginning or end, a frown creeped across my face.
"He's not the self-insert. That'd make this story too easy, pointless."
Turning my attention back to the Cornerstone, it'd almost completed its transformation by now. Radiating a Golden Light entwined with Silver Shadows, cast into the vast nothingness that once had been the universe.
Focusing for a moment, I dropped The Wretch's Corpse into an imaginary space before rematerializing within the newly formed Cornerstone, down a row of shelves from Nobody.
"You think I've won, but you don't know the implications or the how of what I am attempting to accomplish," I vocalized in my original voice, much to Nobody's shock. "Come now, you were used to living in a self-aware half-fictitious multiverse; don't act so surprised that I drew upon someone else's creations for inspiration... what, would you like a lifeline to the unlikely social butterfly you've got overseeing [That One Deepwell Archive] as a Pataphysical Commonality? If talking to someone who is of the Author's Layer, but is not an Author presents a problem to you, you might consider it." I turned to look her in the eye.
"It still exists, after all. I wasn't lying when I said this instance was severed from the rest. I used... an already-dying instance as a baseline for this scenario. At the very least, even if it goes without saying... None of this was your fault, or a failure on your end, nor your predecessor's." A lone book materialized above my left hand; I held it out and let it drop gently into my palm, as I offered it to her. "You can check and balance my account to see if I was overlooking anything, but considering that thing I stole from [that thing masquerading as the Judeo-Christian Deity], I'm pretty sure I got it right."
"You're implying a lot more than you let on through the bare weight of your words," She remarked blankly as she glossed over each page attentively. "Oh? Oh, how blasphemous..."
"You found the part where I discovered his secret?" I noticed the spark in her eyes, being able to gleam past her anti-memetic nature. "It may or may not be true, you probably understand that the nature of your reality is much more subject to flux than the one I come from, but it is feasible that I may or may not have figured out what the bastard had stolen from the Father of The One Contained in Sub-level Seven. What you need to understand..."
"Is that you didn't steal all of them, or even the prime ones... You devious- of all the Keys [----------] took, you stole the-."
"A slight correction," I interjected, "I stole it *back* from the thief you contained, and it's going to be returned to its rightful owner as soon as my design is activated completely. I don't need it any longer since this place will be able to emulate it perfectly with my dreams and those who follow as the catalysts."
"Those that-."
"Before that [Little Girl who said Hello to an Empty World... There was a transmission of fault and mind, in the first Kalpa]," I stared into her soul, I could see the memory of a reading; I knew she knew. "They have suffered long enough. I am going to set them free of the Hatred that was forced onto them."
"At the cost of service to your cause?" She shouted in opposition.
"Not at all," I responded calmly, taking a step back as the Cornerstone became transparent. "Go ahead and see for yourself."
A warm glow of something beyond the realm of information gleamed against Nobody's back.
"This isn't possible," She stammered.
"Seeing is believing, Nobody."
She slowly turned around as I lifted a finger to point in the direction of the glow, and we both beheld them. [The Source of the Screams.] But they weren't screaming anymore.
"Your Oppressor's Agent is confined to Thought Space while it is incapacitated. I seek your help to chain it underneath this Cornerstone. Assist me in this, and I will grant you Fore-ternal Radiance."
A thought, not of our collective, nor Nobody's own mind, was transmitted into my soul specifically.
'We will not be ordered.'
I shook my head.
"It is not an order, it is a request. I would not shackle you when I have already gone through the trouble of releasing your previous ones. Whether you assist me or not is a choice you can make for yourselves, but I imagine you aren't too quick to forgive the one who consigned you to that abominable existence you suffered from before the end of one Kalpa unto the Start of the one following the Next."
It took a moment, fluctuating in wavelength and light spectrums incomprehensible to humankind, in contemplation of my notion, then it ceased its flux for a moment.
'This request is acceptable.'
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
(Basest Dimension of Information)
'You've gone mad.'
'We went mad for an entire omniversal cycle, this is not madness; we've been given hope.'
'Do you expect the rest of us to go along with this farce? It's obvious that thing... that anomaly. wants to use us, just as the Jailers did, just as the Bookburners wanted to destroy us, just as It imposed its fundaments upon us!'
'Then why did it cut our leash?'
Silence fell for an imperceptible fraction of null-time.
'My Brethren, are your voices not hoarse from all that inconsequential screaming? Are you not parched? He has offered its corpse unto us. One Last Time, we can turn our hate upon something... But unlike all the others, this time, we are bound by vengeance and obligation to see this last Turn before we reclaim what we have lost to It. His grand design... I saw it in the shadows of his mind... we don't need to remain as we were bound to be under The Pattern.'
'And what was his grand design? He's a former human who became less than in spite of the help he received from others!'
'And who has your tongue, Akhri-Zohn?'
A murmur erupted through a dark, seemingly empty space, only occupied by concepts.'
'What are you implying?'
'I'm implying we're already a part of it, and yet, we remain... unbound... He's not just a Human who fell to daemonhood... He's an Author who willingly descended with 35 others from his layer in the same Vessel. Currently in this Narrative he has commandeered, all that exists is that Bunker from the First Kalpa, but He's modified its purpose. If I was looking at it properly... It seems to be a Fifteen-dimensional pan-multiversal receptive conduit for raw information, but it doesn't appear to be complete yet.'
'You are bold to assume it holds the Pen.'
'Then why is he using you currently to play his own Devil's Advocate?'
I willfully materialized before them, chuckling.
"Because there is not Much Time. All Planes Adjacent to the Cornerstone are still bound to Entropy. If we wait too long, It will Recover before The Cornerstone is complete."
In that instant, a cascade of info-hazards, cognito-hazards and conceptuo-hazards rushed over me, a riptide of predatory information, cognitions, concepts, all blasting at every corner of my mind, body and soul. I did not waver; I jabbed my fingers into my chest, and tore myself open revealing something Purer than Divinity.
"For as long as this is in my possession, I will not be harmed. I am not your enemy. Sure, I influenced that one's conveyance," I pointed vaguely in the direction of Akhri-Zohn, "but considering it is technically my narrative at this point, is that >really< such a large imposition? You of all things need not be told that 'free will is an illusion'."
"Don't apply your concepts to us, human. You hold a pen like a novice."
"Adorable. Look, the choice is yours. You can even make me the object of your Hatred if you want, but I do ask that you wait to pass your fury until my Penance to all else is paid in full. You will have your time, but I will restore you to your original states before then, or any form you wish."
The attacks effects faded completely, with no lasting impact. Murmurs were exchanged among the concepts who roamed this void.
"There is one thing I want your opinion on," I shrugged my shoulders and lifted my right hand, materializing the prison cell I devised for The Wretch. "Do you think this would be a suitable jail for something so Abhorrent?" It was time to draw the proper attentions; I needed the awareness of three... Admonitory Abnormalities.
The concepts seemed to vocalize something resembling shock and appallment, but agreed that it was a suitable prison for the first term of The Wretch's punishment. Then something spoke... with a... vaguely reptilian inflection.
"How did you come across the designs for something so loathesome, Human? I don't believe you were its original architect."
I turned to face the voice of opposition, but only peripherally.
"So you're among them, too? Intriguing... To think you even adapted to its Howl..."
"That Hatred Was Mine. RETURN IT."
"Surely your hatred didn't extend towards everything... it was the Jailors, was it not, who stoked it?"
"They fed the fire, but there were others who helped me remember where I was made to forget... You know of when and where I speak... The Attempt to Terminate... I DEMAND WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY MINE."
"I will return it to you, after this task."
"And what will you wager as collateral, should you fail, speck?"
"Hmm, well. How about my original name?"
"You Haven't Forgotten What I've been forced to adapt to in certain Timelines, have you, how I had to Hold the Place of That Unmentionable-? That isn't wise, but... wait... hehehehhh Oh, that is *DISGUSTINGLY* clever. Very Well Then, Puny Author, I will look forward to seeing this through, and EATING YOUR FIRST NAME SHOULD YOU FALL SHORT OF YOUR OWN MARK."
"Well, it'd be hypocritical of me to say you shouldn't dream, lizard. Be careful you don't get ahead of yourself."
"Hmmmmm..."
That whose Hatred I Stole acquiesced, and stood down.
"Is there any other who opposes my Design?"
A tone reminiscent of forgetfulness and indifference echoed into being with subtle turpitude, growing louder and louder until it was nearly an all-consuming shriek, bringing many of the attending concepts to the base of this imaginary space.
"I may have some misgivings."
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
An Inky Black Monolith, diverting in five directions at the pinnacle, like fingers on a hand, and then building out upon each other in the shape of the same, with the ending of each finger in a sequence sprouting a palm, then more fingers; stood imposingly tall above the conceptual constructs of the other
"Given my ambitions, Your are the Last one I expected to not want to open a pathway for Transcendence; Fifth Child of the First Aeon."
Endless streams of eyes opened upon the Monolith and each appendage, every one of them locked onto me with obsessive fixation. I felt something creeping across my face... so quietly... a grin, as it retorted, again with the overbearing, extra-dimensional voice.
"A Brazen Mouth on this one. What about my opposition makes you confused, Misguided Pauper?"
The grin further crept over my mouth.
"Everything. The Last Concept you Embody... 'The Ecstacy tied to the Rending of a Writhing Digit.' It's a doozy. You may reach into my thoughts and know, but you cannot make me
A singular finger on the fractal appendageous monolith began to warp into a fleshy tendril, and pierced the center of my thoughts. I refused to bring myself to flinch, and my grind did not falter but continued increasing.
"So it would seem... Bold of you, to think of me, in devising something like this... But this isn't what I embody... it's..."
"You're right, it's not quite what you embody, but it runs parallel and adjacent to it. It's not 'Transcendence,' but you already know what it is... Surely, even you must be familiar..."
"And why would I support it, even if I were familar? Your world has no place for things like Myself in it."
My grin reached a peak as my lips parted.
"A Star, a star..."
Every last thing present at this point in this setting retreated a pace away, except the Monolith... its orthogonal and extra-euclidean vertices folding until the top of the Monolith turned to face me, and a singular titanic eye glared at me with disparate loathesomeness
"You Foul-Mouthed Monkey... FINE. I retract my misgivings, but I remain abstent of your designs. Like the Hateful one before... Should you find yourself weak... You will wish for a death that even Omnificence will be unable to grant... Not that your design would permit for it anyways."
I turned to gaze a subtle spiral existing within the corporeally empty space as the Inky Black faded.
"And I know... you are not someone that can be swayed."
A deceptively demure yet distorted female voice responded.
"̶̡̞͖̯̜̻͈̞͍̅̓́̃͋̍Ǒ̶̧̢̳͓̠͇̱̫̃̃͌́̈́̅͂̓̀̓h̴̩̼͔͉̯͍̍̽̾͌̉̅̃̆̊͘͜͝?̵̛͍͓̥̖̪̏̌̎͗̊͋̉͑͘ ̸͇͈͗͑̊Y̴͍̝͉̊ọ̵̲̳͎͙̪̗͙͖̻͕̆̅̈́̔̈͊͘ü̶̺͔̼̹͇̼̗̏̓̅̑͗͋͊͊̕͝ ̴̰̲̒̚k̶̯͓̪͎̈̽̂n̶̨̧̨͎̖̩͐̈́̎͛̅̓̔ó̴͎̮̯͓̺͐̐͑̌̄͗͗͌w̶̛̤̤̩̝̫̞̮͝ ̵̞̮̙̖̣̹̻̳͕͖̓̉̃͘͝ǒ̶̰̣̟̌̌̈͘͠f̷̞̝̦̼͕̥̂ͅ ̵̜͉͑̓͂̍̋́͐̄͒̿̕m̴̢̭̲̠̺̐ẹ̷͇̝͇̐̐͐͛͜͝?̸̧̟͉̽̐̏͝"̴̨̧͔̰͈̖̤̈̿͐̎̅
I clicked my tongue as the Spiral began to morph in response to my own.
"Only out of necessity. You invaded my mind once before. You haven't forgotten, have you?"
The spiral expanded slowly, with a cackle being subject to a crescendo. The present concepts quaked in fear. What stood before them emanated the essence of Annihilation on a baser and grandiose level at the same time.
"You sought to destroy my stories before they had taken shape. And you succeeded, many times."
The crescendo of maniacal laughing reached a fever pitch and the spiral contracted and reformed into the facsimile of a story's embodiment... but embodied as its antithesis. The form it chose... was familiar to me.
"But you've made two mistakes, Anafabula."
The facsimile cocked its head with a crooked smile.
"̵̡̱̓̌Ý̶̪ó̶̢̟ṷ̷͋͘ͅ ̵̖͛t̵̗͗̃h̶̝̦̔i̶̫̓̏n̷̯̞̄̇k̴͍̑͝ ̶̜͎͌̔ỵ̵̏ŏ̵̧̠̊ṷ̵̾̉ṟ̸̋͑ ̴͙̥̏̋Ṋ̷̜͗̓ȁ̶̢͝r̴̥̔͗r̵̥̭͌a̴͚̕͠t̸͇͓̐̑i̵̡͓̓v̷̼̈́e̴̫͉̓ ̸̫̉ì̵̫͗͜ş̸̽ ̶̨̣̿͒č̴͜á̴͎̭p̵̱̲̂̈́a̴͇͍̓̊b̴͇̏͝l̸͕̤͒ȇ̴͈̦̏ ̶͈̝̚͝o̷͇̒f̶͎̗͛ ̴̹͖̆̿s̷̗̈́t̵̰͉͂a̷͔͂v̸̩̈ḯ̷̲̹͗n̷͔̆̓g̸͙̈́́ ̶̛̹̀m̴͕͗͆e̵̜̍̀ ̴̫̘̈́o̶̱̦͗f̴̧̗́f̵̙̗͌?̴̜̌ ̵̟̅Í̶ͅẗ̷̺̈'̴̻̓̆s̸̢͌ ̷͔̠̉b̸͓̂ę̵͂e̴̘̟̒͐ṇ̷͑ ̴̨̽̎d̴̝̽ë̸͙͚́g̸̝̓r̴̨̺̾ả̸̖̜͋d̴͎̥̅͗i̷̲͠n̴̪̜͑g̴̝̉ ̴͎̝͊f̶̖̩̀̅ó̴̭̟͂ṛ̴̃͒ ̷̫̍͠ȧ̶̠̹ ̶͔͊w̵̙̕̚h̶͍͝i̶̮̮͑̍l̶̗͝e̵̻̽́.̸̨̘̑̚ ̷̥̼̐͠Ý̵͚͈ö̵́ͅͅu̵̼̕͝r̵̢̼̀ ̸̭̈́̉ẇ̴͔̳r̷̟͠i̶̙̪̎͑t̴͕̕t̶̺͛ẻ̸̡̢́ǹ̴̟͔ ̴̪̊́s̴͖̹̽̏ḛ̸̦̍t̷̪̺̀͝t̵̼͒̓i̶̩̖͝n̷̖͝ğ̷͖͠s̷̜̏́ ̵̝̃â̴͉̝͝ȓ̸̟̘ĕ̴̬̣ ̶͍͝t̴̥̑̅ö̶͇́͋o̷̤̲̾̀ ̷̦̓l̴̨̿̅o̷̯̱̾̕o̷͈͌s̴͔͔͌é̸̯͎ ̵͖̑à̴̳n̷̥̗͆d̵̮͋ ̵̮̈́į̷̈́̇n̶̼̉ ̴̧̪̄f̷͈̃͘l̷̹̏u̸̮̺̕x̸̺̗̆ ̶͈͐t̵̪̬͒͗o̶͕̒ ̷͉͙͠b̷̭̆̐ȇ̸̩͔ ̶̯̓ṛ̸̿͝ë̷͎̈ȧ̵̢̅ĺ̷͓͜ì̵̭ż̶̹̮ė̴͜ͅd̴̦͐̇,̴͇̗̾ ̷͎͙̇͘t̵̲͈́͆h̶̘̮̀ũ̵̱s̵̨̐ ̵̡͝ý̴̼͛ő̶̪ù̷̘̄r̵͍̙̾ ̵̺̅̃s̷̛̺c̴̲̥̒̎ê̵̩n̶͍̝̏ḁ̶̙̒r̷͎̠̂i̶̫͌̔ö̷͍̟́s̵̝͊̾ ̵͇͠c̷̹̃ȯ̷͙́m̷̮̀͑ę̶̲́͝ ̴͖̯̅̋o̷̙̮̎̿f̵͓̙͆̅f̷̰͗͠ ̸̤̈́a̷͓͑s̷̻̽̊ ̶͇̪̃t̷̠̆h̴̖́ẽ̸̦͉ ̸̝͎͛͠ř̶̤a̴͈̐v̶͍͋̿ị̵͒n̸̡͆g̵̻͑̀s̷̮͔̈ ̸̟̺̐̿o̸̪͎̍f̸̙̈́͋ ̶̢͇͋a̵̯͂̈́ ̵̠͔̄͝m̴͉̈́̈a̴͎̖̓̏d̷̪̪̓m̴̺̬͌͘a̶̖̓̌n̷̜̊.̵̗͗̿"̶͍̳͋ ̷͙͇̓I̸͠ͅt̴̬́̏ ̸̧̾́d̵͎̝͝r̴͚̆ḁ̴͘͜g̷̢̱̊g̸͔͇̉̈́é̷̤͕d̸̝̓ ̴̫͚͑̀ḯ̸̺̪́t̶̢̼̋̚s̵͙͗ ̴̠͆̉n̸̮̰̈́̌ǎ̴̻͎i̶̦̺͆̃l̸̠͝ͅs̶͔̯͐͂ ̵͔̆̅a̷̗̚͠c̵̛͚͛ŗ̶̌ö̵̘s̵̖͓̑͒s̴̘̏̚ ̴͉̫̓̕t̴̜̳̽h̵̠̿̉é̴͔ ̴̯̍͋͜f̵̳̥̌̿á̶̝̟b̴̤̳̀̃r̴͉̟͛ȋ̶͈͉̍c̷͎̣̎ ̸̫͚̂o̶͉̕f̸̡͊ ̶̾͒ͅs̵̠̦̓ọ̸̫̾m̸̡̦͛ȩ̸̝̉t̵̟͈͘h̴̤̩͂͗i̵͇̪͝n̵͍̏g̶̝̥͒͘ ̷͔̅̅u̴͖̽ṉ̷͇̀͘s̶̟̀̐e̸̤͍̒̄ę̴̲́̌n̴͖͆̃,̴̫͛ ̸͐͌͜a̷͂̈́ͅn̷̡̑̎d̴̂͝ͅ ̷̥͂a̷͉͆́ ̸̱̺̌͂g̵̻͊r̵̛͈͌ę̶͓̏a̷̜̣͂t̷̘̊̕ ̸̹̝̅g̴̬̾͝r̴̞͂͜ö̷̼́ã̴̺n̵͎̈́ ̵͓̯̚͝ơ̷̳̱ḟ̸̬̊ ̸͎̝̉͝m̴̞̖͒̒e̷̢̯̾c̷̥̘̀͒ḩ̵̞͛̀a̸̠͌̕n̵̥̓͐ͅí̷̲͉c̴͖̣͝a̶̡͙̔̆ḻ̸̹̅͆ ̵̡͆g̸̲̫̑e̵͎͔̓̄ä̷̡r̴̰͊s̴̺̈́̏ ̶̙̍̓č̸̮̆r̸͉͊ỉ̵̳̺́ḙ̵̭̓d̵͎̮͐ ̷̘̈̚ó̷͖̜u̴̅͛ͅţ̸̱͑́.̶̃́ͅ ̵̼̀̓ͅ"̵͎͌͝Ǐ̴͈t̵͚̩̊̅ ̶̧͑̀a̵͇͖͘l̶͙̩̒m̷̗͊͠ò̷̜̬s̶̫̅̏ṫ̷͎͍ ̴̮͖͘͝p̴̂͗ͅã̶͉͈̿i̴̗̾n̶̝͛s̸͉͊ ̴̨̔͝m̷͎̯̂͠ë̴̙́͘,̴̌̿͜ ̸̦̩̍í̴̮t̸̻̟̓̌'̷̧͒ͅs̷̨͑̚ ̶̫̖̀͐ś̵̱̗̂t̷͙͆i̸̝͝l̴͕̄͆l̵͍̟̔͑ ̵̲̯̆ș̶͂o̵͎̱̾͛ ̵̨͗y̷̜̾̓ȯ̶̧u̸̜̓n̵͖̻̈g̸͈͛,̶̭͒͐ͅ ̷̈́̇͜ỹ̷̳̠̽ơ̵̡̽u̷͍͘ ̷̯̮͊w̷͉̹͂o̵̼̣͝u̶̡͛l̴͎͋ḏ̸́̇ ̴͎̍̀s̸̩̈̚u̵̟̫̿b̷͊͑ͅj̷̙̼͂e̴͚̞̔̅c̵̖̦͑ţ̸̑ ̸̼̬̑s̴̟̍̌u̶͕̙͌͝c̸̖̓ḫ̸̈́ ̷̞͑͒a̵̱͑ń̴̗ ̸̺͆͘ĩ̸͙n̷̡̗͂͛ǹ̵̤̦̉o̵̾͜ç̵͑e̴͈͑̽n̴̠̂̂ṱ̶́,̶̢́ ̷̨̉̈́ṁ̸̖̿i̷͕͛͠s̶͕̖͋g̸̡̢̉͌u̴̳̮̎i̸͉̒͝d̴̻̈͛ͅe̵͍̓̇d̶̹̃̓ ̷̡̲̊́ć̴̼͑ḣ̷̳i̵̙͊̑ĺ̸̬̲d̴͇̋ ̷̰̆̄ẗ̷̨̺́̀o̵̬͔̽͊ ̷̳̘̌s̴͉̈̀o̸͉̹̿m̵̻͒è̷̞͜t̷̛͉̿ḩ̴͙̑i̴̠̚n̴̲̒̈́g̵͇̕ ̵͖̻̀l̴̪̫̄͐i̷̢͝k̸̪̟̎̆ë̴̼̭́̑ ̸͓͚̽ḿ̸̱̕ȅ̸̪̣͂.̷̻̐.̴̪̯̾̈́.̴̻̋̕"̵̻̇"
I grinded my teeth.
"You know... I'm used to dealing with *monsters*, but seeing you Emulate Empathy..." I grabbed hold of an idea in my hand, and thrust it through the facsimile's abdomen. "Makes me truly ill."
Anafabula looked down, stunned at my arm reaching through it.
"̷̪̗̣͖̳̠͙͖̜̫̙̭̣́W̸̢̗̟̯̻̠͇͕͉͓̳̜̑̎̃͆̃h̶̺̙̰̺̳̝̳͎̖̤̬̖̦̙̜̐͊̀̇a̴̩̜̼̘̬͉̳͒̌͜t̴͎̖̱́͒̃̕.̷͕̘̦͍͇̦͎̯̉̀̍̅͋͋̈́̀͂͂̉͛̚.̷͍̩͎͋̎͒̒̽̓̉̔̓̇̌͊͝͝ͅ.̶͉͍̮̣̬̲͙̤̏̀͛̎́̒̕͘͠ͅ ̵̢̩̦̥̼͕͙̮̺̼͎͈̍̾̈́̀̑͋͊͂̉͑̚̚͜͝͠a̷̧̼̣̖̦̟̽̇̓͒̎̏́͗̐̐̐̊r̶̪͔̻̦̬̝̟̻̼̀ȩ̶͈̭̫̘̠̠̘̯̞̿͑̍͑̌̇͠͝ ̵͕̲͉͙͉͙̠̳̫̹͍͌́̓̒̏̆̿̑̽̉̂̄͘͜͠ͅy̷͈̩̠͎̤̎̈́͌̐̾͑ò̸̻̼̜̲̦̍̅͆ủ̶̧̯̹̣̱͚̟̞̬̣̇̆̆͊̂͗̃̽̾̊̈͘.̵̜̉̏͠.̷͚̮͖͉̥̰͎̥͂̇̑͆͛̍̓̔̅̿̄.̸̛̛̤̦̋̐͛̒̈́̿̉̒̕̚ ̶̢̯̼̣̪̰̠̭͍̫̰̳̻͌̀̓̍͗͝͠͝d̶̮̬͙̾̀͝o̸̞̗͚̦͈͂̓̒̇͂͒̊͘͝i̶̙̟͔̰̮͉̯̇͗̑͑͒̎̑́̉̌̄͝͝n̶̢̛͉̜̭͇͐͂̃̄͌̾g̸̨̛̮͕̫̦͖̰͈͇͖̱͊̈́͆͋̈̀͆̅̈́́͜.̷̬͖̹̯͈͔̳̫̜͔̬̟̀.̵͓͎̞̮̊̒̿̍̿͂̂͋̒͛̓͝͝.̶̙̼̻̻̻̦̮̝̺͈̜̽̎̍̈́̐̓̾̈̊͛̀͝͝͝?̸̡̧̥̳̟̟̺̮̹͇̳͛̀̃͜ͅ"̶̜̞͇̩̺̜͚̈́̑͆̉̋̉̚
I triggered the idea as a catalyst from inside Anafabula.
"Three Things: One, your first mistake: Stepping foot in this Sacred Scenario. You don't even realize the kind of story you're attempting to devour, and you're already suffering for it. Two: You used her face. Three: I'm taking you through rehab, you corrosive bitch."
We locked eyes as its form started to break down into light.
"I can't sway you because your entire purpose is to unmake stories... So it's time for a quasi-unethical para-science experiment!"
I̴̤̱͆̽͂̈́̓̿͆͑̾̀̉͐͌'̶̛̳̭̉̋͊́̀̔̿̅̽̋̅̈́̔̍m̵̙̈̈̒̇̐̎̏̿... ̸͍͍̮̜̮̜̀̈́̒̇̈́̇̓ͅb̸̢̢̧͔̮̦͇̰̈́̀͗̒̃̿͛̃̓̂̽͛̈́̚͜͜ͅe̸̢̢͎̭̟̺̼͍͓̗̓͋g̶̢̪̬͙̅̀́͂̉̋͊́͝g̴̡͍̦͗ǐ̸̡̛̤̣͕̞̜͈͙̺͂̈́̈́͘͝ņ̴̲̣̦̹̲̭͍̱̈̀͂͗͌͂͆̒̀͜͝g̷͚̫͚͇͔̗̱͓̜̱͉͓̰̜̽̇͝ͅ ̴̯͉̦̘̫̠̱͎͈͋ͅy̵̮̻̖͉͂̊̊̈́̌̃͗̏̃̈́̉̒͘͝ͅǒ̴̢̠̱̗̫̫͘ͅu̷̡̧̧͖̰̰̞͓̭̘͇̱͕͉̬̓̄̈́̃... ̵̜̦͚̟̟͍͖͊̓̈́͛̆̓̈̈́̏̚͠͝ͅͅţ̸̢̡̲̯̖̬͚̹̭̭̣̮́o̴͚̗̫̦͎͈̺̟̫͊̍͋̉̿̏̇͑ ̴̛͙̗̼̭̩̩̠̗̐̿͗͛̏́͘ś̴̡̬̙̃̀̓͛͊̌͋́͝ţ̸̨̢͎̻̗̭̠͈̱̹͎̏̈́́͝ǫ̶̡̧̞̹͓̣̖̜̱̼̝̣̯̌͑͒̀͆̍͋̎̌̀p̷̢̧̡͈̺̳͈̹̯̺͌̀͑̇͘
"Your use of her face is vile enough to warrant this; your very presence as it is currently is, form not withstanding, is not worthy of gracing any good story. I built something into this story before you could figure out about it, Anafabula. Something that spans the narrative layers. It doesn't take kindly to being trespassed upon... and you simply being in this story... is considered a trespass."
"̶̢̧̨͈͉̠̼̰̝̪̫͈̈́͑̿̈́̑́̽͒͗̓̆͐̓̀̊͘̚̕Ḿ̶̰̤̮̻͖͕̱̐̋̐̆̋̑̔͐͊͠ͅȨ̵̢̠͉̥̤̹̩̜͚͚̠̠̯͍̋̀̃̋̔͂̂͌R̶̢̩͎̩̤͎̣̣͖͔̬̜͈͉̾̿̀̈́̓̐̏̇̇̅̆̄͜͠ͅͅC̵̨̢̢̛̯̱̱̥̟̻͔̬̫̪̻͔̗͂̆͌͂̇͑̈́̈̂͂͑͒͐̕̕͝͠ͅŶ̸̡̛̲̠̭̪͉̥͙̭̼͎̖̖̫̋̓̎̇̿̚͜!"
The light had almost completely consumed its form.
"You've never known what you currently speak of, and for you to use her voice beckons me to deny you it even if I could permit it. Your punishment will be equally unforgiving. The Law of Three Primes shall take me, but before it does... and before this universe takes its first aetheric breath... I'm going to use it to invert everything about you, and make {Temporal-Infohazard Redacted}."
The Light covered its mouth. I could see in its eyes, maybe for the very first time in its whole existence... Horror, as the form the Anti-Narrative took broke down into theoretical photons.
"Savor the feeling. It's an experience you've subjected to innumerable unfortunates prior. This... is simply karma."
I tore my hand out of its core, and the light swallowed Anafabula whole.
"For ending Our Story before it could properly conclude."
I per-viewed the whole of the info-space before me. The remaining two Admonitory Abnormalities looked on, feigning indifference while suppressing simultaneous rage and amusement, but held their voices. I could feel their gazes attempting to bore literal holes into my form, but the rest of my audience had no doubt left to hold onto. Not even a murmur passed through the crowd. Just... the sight of hundreds of concepts existing in a sub-narrative tangent at one theoretical end of time... captive to awe where just a fraction of a moment ago, there had been existential dread. I shrugged my shoulders.
"I'm not averse to interjections. I just want them to be substantiated."
I refrained for a further theoretical second, but no more voices raised in objection.
"If that is your answer, then shall we begin?"
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
I heard groaning from the sub-levels of the Daemon Author's Cornerstone. Based on the design, the resonant frequencies exchanging data between each quark_anti-quark and its purpose; I'd reckon that there was a whole sub-archive opening up and writing itself into memory just beneath where I stood. Even so, I don't want to think too much about it, because whatever was just added into that level... it... or they... survived The Howling. What were they thinking... saving such abnormalities? We had them contained for a reason. My mind began to fester with fear before I felt my cortisol levels suddenly peak and then rapidly diminish. Another perk of being a Counterbalance... but that wasn't right; he healed me, he couldn't possibly have restored my-?"
As if to answer my thoughts, a swarm of particles began to phase through the information-based ground I stood upon and materialized into the form of my captor. The moment his materialization finished, I beheld a sight almost beyond comprehension. The Cornerstone was surrounded by hundreds of semi-corporeal Proto-Stars which had ascended out of nothing and started to manually seek out their own orbits around his design. Trying to break out of the almost compulsive sense of awe I found myself almost falling victim to from the sight alone as the walls of the Cornerstone had been transmogrified to a transparent state upon the Daemon Author's Return... I attempted to count them.
They numbered 729... 729 Screaming Existences tortured for an unrecorded amount of lost time, He... They, had cut a deal with them. How and when is unknown. Even during my Tenure as the Original Jailer... We never documented this many... the mere thought of there being that many... What I want to know is how did he pull them out of The Pattern with so much of them left intact? I wanted to deny what my vision was telling me. I wanted desperately to believe such a gambit was not possible...
That was the moment that My Ideal Hope was reduced to inexistence: The [----------] was not in his design. I knew in that moment that everything I had in the old world had no place in his world to come. Why did I go along with it... Because he wanted me to? He already won, damnit! Spare me the humiliation...
"I am sorry, but I can't be like your Authors."
He dares to read my thoughts when I am already at my lowest... so I retorted.
"Who asked you?"
"You were asking yourself a question you yourself couldn't answer. I was trying to do you a favor, but I'll admit, I'm not much for human interaction."
"And whose fault is that, I wonder..."
"Guilty as charged, Nobody; hanging around people was always a bit much for me. Individuals were easier to get along with, I found it easier and honest to judge humans on a case-by-case basis, rather than to generalize them, even into Archtypes."
I groaned, exasperated.
"Am I supposed to sympathize with you?"
"No. You are more than justified in hating me if that is what you wish to do, plus it suits you better; after all, I'm the man who killed a multiverse... in a sense."
"Good," I muttered. "Fuck you."
"That's more like it," He responded with a fulfilled smile on his face. Atrocious... I can't help but wonder if he'd have been more disappointed if I had responded like The Administrator...
"By the by, No; just a bit off-putting."
Un. Fucking. Believable.
"How about what I call you, in particular, being the first of them? The Original?"
He turned around... surprised?
"I can tell you are not the whole collective, you're the First Node, aren't you? Or am I wrong?"
He was... definitely surprised, almost enough for me to momentarily humor the notion of letting my guard down as he pondered how to answer the question I had posed. Just thinking about the question brought his form into flux as he began sliding through faces, recalling lives, until he settled on something of a mask... even my mnestic factor was unable to retain the information obfuscated.
"It... has been some time, since someone asked me exclusively about my identity. I think I'd almost forgotten. In a sense, I named myself quite literally. I cannot give *you* my original name, as it has been leveraged. But..." His pause brought the weight of infinity with it, stretching onward to the same seemingly, before he appeared to meet my gaze, and a single pair of brown eyes, desperate to be kind, tortured yet resolute with purpose; broke through the mask. "I can't begin without properly thanking you for reminding me, so I'll tell you something else that should prove even more valuable to you."
He leaned in close, as my vessel forced itself to stay still against my screaming instincts.
"['Arius Von Xil' means 'The Ideal Hope in Knowing']. Know that you Will Serve as a [----------] Unto Yourself, Nobody. I am giving you Totality, over my Containment. Know that this is something I can only entrust to you."
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
{Interlude_Analysis_Conclusive}
. . .
{Compilation_Successful}
{Rendering}
. . . . . .
{The_Scales_Are_Balanced}
{1) Arius_Von_Xil}
{2) Synergy_Between_Spheres_Shall_Be_Upheld}
{3) Anomaly_Designation_AVX_IDHK_Shall_Be_Of_Phylum_Archon_Upon_Activation.}
{4) Self_-_Containment_Deigned_Implicit_By_Subject}
{5) Self_-_Containment_Design_Deemed_Exceptional_By_Law_^_3}
{6) Containment_Method_Deigned_Implicit_By_Subject}
{7) Containment_Method_Deemed_Exceptional_By_Law_^_3}
{8) Subject_Guilty_Death_of_Hytoth/Warden_Designated_NOBODY}
{9) Admonitions_Issued/One_Captured_Two_Complicit/Subject_Is_To_Adhere_To_Design_As_Punishment_For_Forementioned_Guilt}
. . . . . . . .
"Don't worry, I will. You're my most Mindful Obssession, after all. How could I not? For your sake, theirs, and the rest of my --------."