In the grand, silvery metallic hall, exaggerated architectural lines and flickering multicolored lights hinted at a world of an advanced technological civilization. The enormous space, capable of accommodating tens of thousands, was a hub of activity, filled with various robots busily at work. Their forms were diverse—some fully mechanical, some humanoid, and others mimicking all kinds of biological creatures. It was a testament to the incredible technological achievements of this civilization, pushing the boundaries of imagination.
Yet, amidst this sophistication, something felt missing—life.
The hall, magnificent as it was, lacked human presence. The vast room was bustling with robots, but not a single human figure was in sight.
After a long moment, a small, golden, winged, spherical toy flew into view, its metallic surface gleaming under the vibrant lights. Trailing behind was a chubby little boy clad in a silver robe. As soon as the boy appeared, all the robots in the hall paused momentarily, their eyes flashing with reverence. Only after the boy ignored them did they resume their tasks.
"Little Gold, don't run off! Wait for me!" the boy called out, his tone filled with affection for the lively toy. His presence brought a spark of vitality to the otherwise cold and rigid space, dispelling its lifelessness.
Despite the hall's grandeur and technological marvels, its stark metallic surfaces felt overly sterile. A touch of green—some plants, perhaps—would certainly have made it more inviting.
"Master, catch me! If you catch me, I'll sing you a song!" chirped the little robot, flapping its tiny wings with an almost mischievous glee. Its oversized mouth stretched so wide it seemed its head might split in two, but its adorable demeanor made one feel an odd urge to pat it.
This time, however, the boy didn't respond with his usual playful enthusiasm. Instead, he stood there, momentarily lost in thought, a sight that puzzled Little Gold. Despite its childlike antics, Little Gold was far more advanced than the surrounding worker robots. It was the latest creation of the mighty Maya Empire, specifically designed to serve the beloved prince. In the robot world, this was the ultimate honor.
The Maya Empire stood at the pinnacle of technological achievement, its reach extending across the stars. For other civilizations in this dimension, Maya was akin to a divine force, its superiority unquestioned. Recently, whispers of a monumental breakthrough had spread—the discovery of a secret on Earth, the cradle of Maya civilization, that could elevate humanity to the status of gods. The project, it was said, was nearing completion. For Maya, where "impossible" was not a word but merely a matter of time, such an achievement was inevitable.
The little prince stared at Little Gold, his expression unreadable. Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed the toy with an iron grip, one that even the most advanced robots could not resist. Little Gold, taken by surprise, was unable to escape.
The boy gazed at the small robot in his hands, his eyes flickering with a hint of reluctance. Yet, his resolve held firm. Clutching his favorite toy tightly, he walked toward a well-like structure at the edge of the hall.
The "well" shimmered with a mirror-like surface, reflecting not the boy or his toy but the ordinary scenes of the grand hall. As the boy leaned over to peer into it, the sound of footsteps echoed from outside the chamber. The prince's grip tightened, his face twisting with determination.
Before Little Gold could protest, the boy hurled it into the mirror-like surface with all his might.
The Maya Empire's unparalleled military might had subdued countless star systems. Space itself was no obstacle, as their mastery of temporal jumps rendered distance meaningless. No civilization—be it spiritual, technological, or otherwise—could withstand the relentless onslaught of the Maya forces. Yet, a thousand years ago, the Maya Empire's inexorable expansion suddenly halted.
On Earth, the cradle of Maya civilization, His Majesty the King had uncovered the ultimate secret—a way for humanity to truly ascend to godhood.
Word had spread that this ambitious project was nearing completion. In the Maya Empire, where the limits of possibility were dictated only by time, nothing was unachievable once conceived.
The little prince stood silently, gazing at Little Gold. His usual cheerful demeanor was gone, replaced by an expression of quiet determination. Before Little Gold could react, the boy suddenly grabbed it. The tiny robot, despite its advanced capabilities, found itself powerless against the boy's grip—a strength that no machine could resist.
The prince studied the toy in his hands, a flicker of hesitation crossing his bright eyes. But the moment passed as resolve overtook him. Clutching his favorite companion tightly, he walked to a well-like object at the edge of the grand hall.
Peering into the well, he saw a smooth, mirror-like surface. Yet, instead of reflecting him or Little Gold, it merely displayed the ordinary expanse of the hall behind him.
The sound of measured footsteps echoed through the chamber, drawing closer. The prince's grip tightened. His gaze hardened, and just as Little Gold began to cry out, the boy hurled it into the mirror-like surface with all his might.
The mirror didn't shatter. Instead, it rippled like water, undulating gently before swallowing the tiny robot whole. A sharp crackle was heard, and Little Gold vanished without a trace.
At that moment, a stern, commanding voice rang through the hall.
"Carter, do you understand what you've just done?"
A man wearing a golden crown stepped into view, his imposing figure radiating authority and anger. Beside him stood a woman of indescribable beauty. Her perfection defied language itself—her presence so flawless that even the slightest imperfection would, through sheer perception, transform into something ideal. She was not just beautiful; she was the embodiment of an unattainable aesthetic.
The king's voice reverberated through the chamber. Every robot immediately dropped to the ground, trembling. Some short-circuited on the spot, sparks flying as they collapsed into broken heaps.
"Carter, what you've done is unforgivable. The parallel mirror links to other lateral universes—worlds entirely unlike ours. If Little Gold escapes the judgment of the universal laws, it will introduce imbalances into those worlds, driving their development into chaos!"
Despite the anger in the king's voice, the young prince remained calm. A small, knowing smile appeared on his lips. "Father, Mother," Carter replied, his voice steady, "as you said yourself, even we cannot defy the laws of parallel universes. Little Gold has only a theoretical one in a trillion-quark chance of evading judgment."
The king's fury had yet to subside, but the queen at his side gently took his hand. "My lord," she said softly, "today is a momentous day. Let us not dwell on the mistakes of our son. My dear child," she turned to the prince, her eyes glowing with divine conviction, "today marks the pinnacle of the Maya civilization. Soon, we shall ascend to become gods—the ultimate essence of the universe itself."
At the mention of godhood, the king's expression softened. A flicker of pride gleamed in his eyes.
"We shall become light," he proclaimed. "The universe will be us, and we shall be the universe. There will no longer be separation."
"Come," the queen urged, extending her hand to the prince. "Let us become light together."
The king and queen took their son by the hands, guiding him toward the towering gates of the grand hall. With a rumble, the enormous doors opened, flooding the chamber with blinding brilliance. Beyond the threshold stood a floating altar of colossal proportions, shimmering with a radiant, milky-white flame that reached for the heavens. Beneath the altar stretched an endless sea of mechanical soldiers, their steel frames gleaming like polished mirrors.
This light was not born of any star but emanated from the unyielding power of countless machines. Each one, a monolith of destruction, held the power to conquer an entire planet with ease. These mechanical legions had carved an unstoppable path for the Maya Empire, making them unrivaled in every corner of existence.
The Earth, once teeming with life, was now barren. Not a single living organism remained—only machines, endless and eternal. Their glowing eyes turned in unison toward the altar and the three figures standing before it. Above the planet, the entirety of the solar system bristled with massive interstellar warships. Onboard, soldiers stood in solemn rows, watching the broadcast of the altar and their king's emergence. Like the legions below, these soldiers were machines, flawless and precise.
The armada stretched beyond the boundaries of the solar system, an infinite procession of warships extending into the void. This was the invincible fleet of the Maya civilization, a force so overwhelming that no other power could withstand it. Entire star systems had crumbled before them.
But today, the fleets stood silent. Every soldier, every subject, every machine of the Maya civilization turned its focus to a single, radiant moment: the ascension of their king into godhood. He would become light, eternal and boundless, and his glory would illuminate the universe forever.
Before the sacred altar, the king raised his hand high. Across the galaxy, every soldier mirrored the motion, lifting their weapons skyward as they chanted in unison: "Long live the king!"
The cry echoed across the cosmos, a declaration of dominion and reverence. In this dimension, the Maya civilization reigned supreme, invincible and unmatched.
Yet the Maya civilization had dwindled to only three souls. The king, the queen, and the prince were all that remained. And now, they were to fulfill the ultimate ambition of their ancestors: to become gods and merge with the universe itself.
It was a solemn and monumental moment. Clad in pure white robes, countless mechanical priests began to chant, reciting the epic chronicles of the Maya's history. The three figures ascended toward the altar, their bodies defying gravity as they floated effortlessly. They soon reached the altar's entrance, where the blazing white flames leapt and danced with a life of their own. Within the fire burned the promise of the future.
This was the Maya civilization's ultimate power, its final destination: to merge with the universe and achieve transcendence. The king, queen, and prince exchanged a wordless glance. In that moment, their expressions became grave, their eyes reflecting the weight of eternity.
With reverent precision, the king raised his hands to his head and carefully removed it. "In this radiant moment," he declared solemnly, "let us face the universe as we truly are."
The severed head spoke with unwavering authority as the king's hands methodically peeled away its hair and skin, revealing a transparent dome beneath. Encased within was a pulsing red brain, the essence of his being.
The queen and prince followed his example, revealing their true forms. Their bodies, devoid of heads, now held their exposed brains aloft in their hands, offering them toward the fire. The three disembodied brains floated toward the altar's center, the flame's glow intensifying as it accepted their offering.
Silence fell. A profound, all-encompassing silence. It was as though time and space themselves had ceased to exist. Then, without warning, the towering flame began to collapse inward, compressing into an infinitesimal point before erupting in a blinding beam of light that shot skyward. The light pierced the heavens, spreading outward in waves that engulfed everything.
The light expanded, merging all it touched into itself. Time, space, and matter dissolved into luminous unity. The solar system was obliterated in an instant, reduced to nothingness by the sheer magnitude of the explosion. The Maya civilization's existence, its unparalleled glory, was erased, leaving only a faint, sorrowful echo in the vastness of the cosmos.
In their prime, the Maya civilization had reached an existential conclusion: the universe was neither three-dimensional nor seven-dimensional, but infinitely dimensional. All realities shared a common origin point, branching into countless parallel universes, each shaped by different possibilities. On one Earth, dinosaurs had gone extinct, paving the way for a species called humans to dominate. In another, dinosaurs had thrived, continuing their reign.
Each possibility birthed its own universe. Some were strikingly similar; others, entirely alien. There were Earths where humans existed but histories diverged—the First Emperor of China was not Qin Shi Huang, Einstein never developed the theory of relativity, and instead, his father did. Yet, despite their infinite variations, these universes remained bound by an immutable law: the barrier between parallel dimensions was impenetrable. Even at their peak, the Maya civilization could not defy this law. Any attempt to breach it resulted in destruction.
But as the prince once said, when science reaches its zenith, the impossible becomes merely improbable. Though the odds were infinitesimally small, the Maya sought to defy the law. Their efforts, however, had brought them to ruin. The explosion they triggered unleashed an uncontrollable cascade of energy that tore through the fabric of existence, leaving entire dimensions teetering on the brink of collapse.
Amid the chaos, a single golden speck—a fragment of inconceivable insignificance—blinked out of existence. When it reappeared, it found itself before a blue and green planet, vibrant with life.