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 Trads seem to have their realm constrained ever more, until they wind up with control more or less restrained to the Island. This holds true as more of an analytical proposition than a narrative one, your analysis is time-insensitive.

The Fyuchees seem to suffer outright destruction, except for the rebirth in a nondimensional realm which apparently has a one point interface with the metaverse as you understand things.

Legions of offshoots and factions spring up or fall down, depending on how you look at it.

And then, of course, you’re just taking account of living things with original connections around your zone of interest. You also know fully the decillionz, oncillions, dodecillions of other life forms found throughout the metaverse.

You have enough experience and thought to have a solid feeling for what it’s like on the Island, in nondimensional pseudospace, and in other worlds. You even know what it’s like to be destroyed.

And now, you get to select an outcome to aim your currents at.

Chugging through your options at a clip 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 match. Howls of primitive longing erupt from the Island. A fresh breeze wafts through your memories into the oblivion of a failed regenesis. All the while, your vision sizzles with glimmering hopes of the hyperecstasy on the pseudovol.

Your simple spawn self plays with your Natalya elements, as the millions of higher layers evolve their codes.

Memories and 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 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 interactions.

Anyway, you already have enough information to decide.

Meanwhile, on the Island, children chant while adults moan. In the pseudospace, intense fantasies vie for embodiment while inchoate thoughts form. And elsewhere around the metaverse, tides of construction and destruction rip through countless lightyear-years of simmering vol.

What do you do?

Phase Q: An interactive adventure.