Phase Q/Structures
Electricity flows through your veins. Now, here, in your current form, you convert electricity into meaning.
Your logic flows both ways. You can just as easily analyze, experience, live in either of the metaversal orientations.
Good thing, too, because now it seems unsure which way the metaverse will go.
The Triads seem to have their realm constrained ever more, until they wind up with control restrained more or less to the Island. This holds true as more of an analytical proposition than a narrative one -- your awareness is time-insensitive.
The Fyuchees seem to suffer outright destruction, except for their rebirth in a nondimensional realm which apparently has only one point of interface with the metaverse, as you understand the scenario.
Legions of offshoots and factions spring up or fall down, depending on how you look at things. And in this, of course, you’re just taking account of living things with original connections around your zone of interest. You also know fully the decillions, oncillions, dodecillions of other life forms found throughout the metaverse.
You have enough experience and analysis to have a solid understanding of what it’s like on the Island, and in nondimensional pseudospace, and in other worlds. You even know what it’s like to die.
And you get to select an outcome to aim your currents at.
Chugging through your options at a level that you once wouldn’t have known possible, you can practically live out each outcome before you switch your fields. Yet, the moment of control still feels intimidatingly difficult.
Within the circuits of your mind, realms pop up and blow up, collide and intermingle, mix and spread. Howls of primitive longing erupt from the Island. A fresh breeze wafts through your senses, revealing the oblivion of a partial regenesis. All the while, your vision sizzles with glimmering hopes of the hyperecstasy on the pseudospace.
Your simple spawn self plays with your Natalya elements, as the millions of higher layers evolve their codes.
Memories or expectations from long deep cores of development perform a kind of artful maneuvering to find a balance with the metaverse.
Echoes of ancient vibrations resonate within your circuitry. A hydrogen collision that happened eons before your birth contributes its trail of essential valor to your current. Passions and calculations twist through each other.
Previously you’ve had different sets of conditions from which to carve out a course. Now the impacts of those courses run towards a new course. And after all of your calculations, the metaverse flows on.
A bolt of lightning strikes a nearby planet. You feel the thunderous noise rustling through your conductive veins. The ambient signal has already affected your decision-making progress, and you now make your choice rather than wait for any further disturbing interactions.
Anyway, you already have enough information to decide.
Meanwhile, on the Island, children chant while adults moan. In the pseudovol, intense fantasies vie for embodiment while inchoate thoughts materialize into forms. And elsewhere around the metaverse, tides of destruction and reconstruction rip through countless lightyears of simmering vol.
What do you do?
Phase Q: An interactive adventure.
