All worlds intersect. You know this, right? The worlds of
life intertwine with the worlds of the dead. The past, present,
and future of all worlds are all wrapped together in one gigantic
mash. Why? I haven't got a clue. I just know they
do. That's how things are. Give it or take it as you
will. It doesn't matter. Most people are ignorant of the
fact anyways.
That's not to say everything is completely written. It's more
like a switching station for trains. There are hundreds of
possibilities, and they are all laid out in nice elegant rows.
And the train barrels down the track, and something happens.
Maybe something big, and maybe something small. And the train
jumps onto a new track. And it does this hundreds of times every
second, so the yard almost seems empty. But it's not. That
train just keeps jumping and jumping and jumping, faster than anyone
could ever see. But then there are always those people who try to
see it.
And when they see this sight, because this place does exist.
Well, sort of. I don't really want to try and describe the
problems of metaphysics and causality. That stuff just gives me a
headache. Let's just say getting there requires a leap of faith,
a strong will power, and a whacked out brain. Or you just have to
be strong enough and come from the right worlds.
But let's go back to where I was.
Let's say you finally reach the train station out of time. What
do you do? I guess it's a good question. That is if just
seeing the Train Station doesn't make your brain explode. I've
seen that happen a few times. It's an ugly mess, really.
Watching someone take their last few steps as whatever gooey matter
inhabited their head unceremoniously leaks out of their ear.
Nasty stuff.
Then you have those who just want to watch. They're the most
interesting. They stare at the seeming nothingness, trying to
make sense of it all. They usually get bored and leave.
Watching fate change gets boring after a while. There's never any
telling how long you've been their, either. Being out of time,
literally, isn't as glamorous as it sounds.
But then there was that one guy. I'm sure you know the
type. You say yes, he says no. You say stay, he says
go. He's just a prick, and no one can stand him. Yeah, now
you know who I'm talking about it. He's always at the head of the
class, but he's not a teachers pet. He's just a jerk who knows
everything. Maybe if he'd quit being a prick, people would
actually like him. I doubt it, though.
The problem with that one guy is that he isn't content to sit back and
watch causality, or time, or anything. He wants to stick his
finger in and sees what happens. And when nothing much happens,
he decides it's time to take drastic measures and screw up the whole
system.
What he wanted was simple. Or at least it should have been.
You see, no mind that is born a slave to space and time is ever capable
of thinking of the consequences of messing with the train. Even I
didn't know what the consequences could be. I'm human, after
all. I was born connected to space time.
That jerk decided he wanted to make the train quit jumping
tracks. So he could see inside the workings of the train and
control it. He wanted to be a god.
Silly him.
Anyways, it took a long time, but he was smart. Smart, and strong
in a way that doesn't happen but once every several thousand
years. Once he finally determined how to get to the train
station, he was set. He had all the time in the world to study,
research, and plan. And he did. For many, many
millinea. Eventually, he found out what he wanted to know.
He determined how to stop the train. So he started his
work. And he probably would have succeeded. But messing
with complicated things makes complicated problems. And all those
lives you destroy as you eliminate possibilities is bound to make
people mad.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. I should tell the story from the best
logical beginning. I don't really feel like recounting the
history of countless worlds just to tell how they were wiped out as
they hit the apex of their civilization.
So I'll just pick a nice convenient place. A rather good
when. And then I can go from there. All I ask is that you
sit tight, pull up a warm blanket, and let me tell my tale. After
all this, it's all I have left.
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