Chapter 3: The Theater of Madness
Here is a little flashback for you guys.
Damn.
Is this what you guys see when you're watching me?
Because I have to say—this is insane.
No, really. It's like a whole damn theater, complete with a stage, an audience, and the world's most dysfunctional cast of actors. And the best part? I'm the star.
Lucky me.
I don't know what I expected when I let them take over. Maybe a blackout? A time skip? Some kind of out-of-body experience where I wake up only to find I've committed war crimes in my sleep?
Nope.
I was here. Watching. Conscious. Fully aware.
It was like stepping back from the wheel of a moving car—except instead of another driver taking over, it was a bloodthirsty survival machine named Fang, whose only goals in life seemed to be eating, fighting, and making sure I didn't die.
"Yup, now watch the guy who has the most raw strength and survivability among us," one of the voices said, casually, like we were all sitting down for a weekend movie night.
And since I apparently had no control over my own life anymore, I did exactly that. I grabbed some popcorn and prepared to watch.
Which, in hindsight, was a mistake.
SMACK.
A sharp pain exploded on the back of my head.
I turned—confused, betrayed—to find Solace, standing there with the most unimpressed expression I had ever seen.
"Why are you grabbing and trying to eat my hand, you dumbhead?"
Ah.
So, apparently, the "popcorn" I had tried to grab wasn't actually popcorn—it was Solace's hand.
Honest mistake.
But that was when I really saw them. Like, actually saw them. Before, they had just been voices—background noise that had tormented me from the shadows. But now?
They were real.
Standing in front of me, clear as day.
And let me tell you—they were weird.
Solace looked almost exactly like me—same face, same height—but where I looked like someone who had just been thrown into a meat grinder, Solace looked like he owned the meat grinder and was three steps away from buying the entire company. His clothes were pristine, his posture perfect, and he had that confident, smug smile that made it very clear he thought he was at least seven steps ahead of everyone else.
Then there was Asher.
If Solace was the perfectionist mastermind, then Asher was the heroic angel. White shirt, golden trench coat, a look that screamed 'I have never committed a crime in my life.' The kind of person that would probably lecture you about morality while simultaneously breaking every law in the book.
And then… there was Riven.
Riven didn't belong here. No, seriously. If Solace and Asher looked like they were taken straight out of a psychological thriller, Riven looked like he had walked straight out of an ancient novel. Long coat, cane, top hat (why the hell did he have a top hat?), and this eerie, unnerving smile like he was watching a game that none of us knew we were playing.
Oh, and there were three other guys, but I had no idea who they were, and quite frankly, I wasn't ready for that existential crisis yet.
So, naturally, I pointed at them and asked:
"So, there are seven of you guys?"
Asher nodded. "Trust me. Seven is enough."
That sounded ominous.
"Mind explaining my situation while that hungry guy is doing his job?"
I gestured vaguely towards Fang, who was currently eating like he had never seen food in his life. (Which, to be fair, was kind of true.)
Solace smirked. "We could explain a lot, but we won't. You're not ready for it yet."
I stared at him. "Not ready? What, am I in some kind of anime training arc? Is there a secret prophecy about me? Just tell me what's going on!"
That was apparently the wrong thing to say.
Because suddenly, an argument broke out.
Again.
At this point, I was already used to it.
"What do you mean, he's not ready? There are no consequences to telling him—why are you toying with him?" Asher snapped.
"You're acting like knowledge isn't dangerous," Solace shot back. "Trust me. It is."
"How about you trust me for once?"
"How about you stop acting like you know everything?"
"How about both of you shut up?"
That last one wasn't me, by the way. That was Riven.
And for some reason, that worked.
The argument died instantly, like someone had flipped a switch.
Riven turned to me, still smiling. "If you really want answers, ask Asher. He's the only one who bothers explaining things in a way that makes sense."
That didn't sound comforting at all.
But at this point, I didn't have a choice.
So, I turned to Asher.
He sighed. "Alright, fine. I'll explain."
He took a step forward. His golden coat shimmered under an invisible light.
And then he said the words that broke my brain.
"We are you."
I blinked. "…What?"
"You heard me."
"Yeah, I heard you. I just don't understand how you can say something that sounds both completely insane and vaguely threatening at the same time."
Asher sighed. "Let me put it in simpler terms. We're not demons. We're not ghosts. We're not supernatural entities whispering into your brain."
He pointed to himself. "I am you."
Then to Solace. "He is you."
Then to Riven. "He is also you."
Then—vaguely—to the rest of them. "And so are they."
I processed this information.
And then, because I am a very mature, reasonable person, I said:
"Bullshit."
Asher gave me a look. "It's not bullshit. It's logic."
"Oh, yeah? Explain the logic of why I have multiple people living inside my head!"
"It's simple," Asher said. "When you experience different emotions, the side of you that's most compatible with that emotion takes over. It's not possession. It's not magic. It's just how the human mind works."
I squinted. "That sounds fake."
"It's not."
"I still don't believe you."
"I don't need you to believe me. You'll figure it out eventually."
Great. Fantastic. That didn't answer any of my actual questions.
But then—just as I was about to keep arguing—Asher added something else.
Asher's smile grew wider.
"There does exist a power," he said, like he was revealing some grand cosmic truth.
I sighed. "Of course there is. And let me guess—it's either completely useless or the key to some world-ending catastrophe?"
Asher ignored me. "It's not a superpower. It's something that everyone has—the ability to mix with different possibilities."
I frowned. "You're saying everyone has this?"
"Yes," Asher nodded. "But your case is different."
"Of course it is."
I crossed my arms and leaned back, waiting for him to continue. I had already committed to this existential crisis—might as well see it through.
"It's not genetic. It's not something you were born with. It's your soul's compatibility with different things," Asher explained. "Some people naturally attune to specific things. A gardener, for example, might have a strong connection to plants—able to tell their condition just by looking at them. A manipulator, or even a clown, might instinctively understand people and their emotions in ways others can't."
I blinked. "Did you just put gardeners, manipulators, and clowns in the same category?"
"Yes."
"…Okay, continue."
"But then," Asher went on, "there are illogical connections. Things that shouldn't make sense but do. And your world? It doesn't understand those kinds of evolutions. Yet."
I narrowed my eyes. "Yet?"
Solace stepped forward, arms crossed. "Until now, the minimum compatibility needed to 'mix' with a different possibility was too high—almost impossible."
"Okay…?" I prompted.
"And then, eleven years ago… it started to weaken."
I frowned. "What happened eleven years ago?"
Solace's expression turned unreadable. "The day you were born."
…
Well.
That wasn't ominous at all.
"Wait," I said slowly, "you're telling me the rules of existence started breaking the day I was born?"
"We don't know if it was because of you, or if you exist because of it," Asher admitted.
Oh, great.
Not only was I part of some existential nightmare, but now there was a chance I was either the cause of the apocalypse or just a really unfortunate side effect of it.
"Wow. What a completely understandable and not at all terrifying explanation," I muttered.
Solace ignored my sarcasm. "We have six months until the limit breaks completely."
I froze. "What do you mean by 'limit' breaking?"
Asher sighed. "Right now, people are still… people."
"Uh-huh."
"But once the limit is gone, everyone will undergo a different kind of evolution. Some changes will be subtle. Some will be extreme. Some might not even remain human."
I stared at him. "Oh, fantastic. So what you're saying is: in six months, the world is going to turn into a sci-fi horror movie?"
"More or less."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Of course it is."
And just when I thought things couldn't get worse—
"And it won't just be your planet," Solace added.
I paused.
I very slowly lifted my head to look at him.
"…What?"
"This isn't limited to Earth," he said. "When the limit breaks, it will happen everywhere. Across planets, across galaxies—every world with life will change."
"…You know what? I think I might just go back to sleep," I said, rubbing my temples. "Wake me up when reality starts making sense again."
"You're handling this well," Asher noted.
I shot him a deadpan glare. "No, I'm just so overwhelmed that my brain has decided to stop working. There's a difference."
Riven chuckled. "Then let me make it simple. The world is going to change. Some people will get stronger. Some will become monsters. Some will stay the same. And you?" He tilted his head. "You have the chance to decide what you become."
That… was not comforting.
And it became even less comforting when Solace added:
"And you need to prepare for it—because if you don't, you'll get swept up in it like everyone else."
I let out the longest sigh of my life.
"Great. Just great. So not only do I have multiple people living in my head, but now I have to worry about some cosmic evolution event that may or may not turn half the population into literal monsters. Fantastic."
"At least you're not alone," Asher offered.
I gave him the most unimpressed stare I could muster.
And then, because I had absolutely no energy left to process any more revelations, I sat down, crossed my arms, and muttered:
"…I need a nap."
Then, everything went black.