spatial dimensions we saw. What was a mind? Why
were humans self-aware, and animals not? I'd read stories of a
creature that could cut away and eat a person's self-awareness,
turning them into walking biological machines that talked, ate,
laughed, and watched movies… but with nobody inside, not for real.
If that existed, then a mind must be a real thing.
And if minds were real things, there was a
dimension or plane where they existed. They were something,
somewhere.
And if they were something, somewhere… then
there might be other things there, too.
I sat in a dark, quiet corner of the
building, a single candle lit in front of me, and a pad of paper
and a pen on hand. These were not necessary for the Game, but they
might help me focus, and then remember. I'd been instructed not to
bother with mirrors, or pentagrams, or blood, or any other human
physical or mental fear. Human concerns didn't matter for
something like this…
Sitting in place, senses dark, I thought a
single word: aware.
I thought it again, repeatedly: aware,
aware, aware, aware…
I made the thought louder. AWARE, AWARE,
AWARE…
I began shouting it in my mind. AWARE.
AWARE. AWARE.
I kept screaming the same word in my mind, from my mind, over and over. Fear of actually attracting
attention held me back, but fear of dying here pushed me past an
intrinsic barrier.
For each repetition, I envisioned the words
as louder than the chant before them, the volume ever-increasing,
until I was sure I was shouting throughout an entire mental
universe.
I kept this up even as a feeling of impending
doom swept over me. Again, I might have stopped… but survival
instinct kept me going.
Then, eight minutes and seven seconds after
I'd begun, it happened.
I opened my eyes and looked out.
A shadowed face flickered beyond the candle's
flame, shifting shade dancing across darker darkness. It wasn't
really here, and I wasn't really looking. I understood that… but I
still felt a chill seize me.
It smiled hungrily, its teeth a row of jagged
voids barring infinite blackness. Congratulations, you've
attracted attention.
I had nothing to offer it, and nothing to
keep me safe. As the author had told me, human rituals were
probably useless in the face of entities that existed beyond the
physical realms. I knew there were other realities that I could
travel to, if I had the means, but this thing was from
somewhere else entirely. But, as my contact had also informed me,
all things followed logic in at least some sense. My only hope was
that some part of its value system overlapped with ours.
"Wait," I thought aloud. "It's important that
I talk to you."
It always is, it whispered back, its
empty eyes icy. None of you ever want to be
consumed. How short-sighted of you.
I didn't ask what it meant by that, and I
didn't want to know. "Are you aware of what's happening? Are you
aware of the Crushing Fist?"
It hissed softly, but did not kill me or
consume me or anything else. It waited. I assumed that meant it was
at least open to my proposal, and that the Crushing Fist meant
something to it.
"I… want to work with you, or make some sort
of deal with you. I need to get out of here. I need to be able to
help others of my kind more directly, or we're all in trouble."
Something behind it moved, and I realized…
the vague humanoid shape before my awareness was a front. The real
entity behind it lay shrouded in darkness, both massive and elegant
at the same time. I dared not look directly for fear of offending
it.
You have no idea what you're up
against, it finally replied. But I envy your ignorance. You
scramble ever forward, like bugs in mud, like fivhen in squuar . You don't even stop when you're already
doomed, dead, or vwaal . That obstinance is, likely,
the only organic trait worthy of mention.
"So you'll help me?" I asked, confused.
It grinned again, its mock shadowed face
stretching horribly. Didn't you hear me? You're already vwaal . You cannot be helped. You
were humans self-aware, and animals not? I'd read stories of a
creature that could cut away and eat a person's self-awareness,
turning them into walking biological machines that talked, ate,
laughed, and watched movies… but with nobody inside, not for real.
If that existed, then a mind must be a real thing.
And if minds were real things, there was a
dimension or plane where they existed. They were something,
somewhere.
And if they were something, somewhere… then
there might be other things there, too.
I sat in a dark, quiet corner of the
building, a single candle lit in front of me, and a pad of paper
and a pen on hand. These were not necessary for the Game, but they
might help me focus, and then remember. I'd been instructed not to
bother with mirrors, or pentagrams, or blood, or any other human
physical or mental fear. Human concerns didn't matter for
something like this…
Sitting in place, senses dark, I thought a
single word: aware.
I thought it again, repeatedly: aware,
aware, aware, aware…
I made the thought louder. AWARE, AWARE,
AWARE…
I began shouting it in my mind. AWARE.
AWARE. AWARE.
I kept screaming the same word in my mind, from my mind, over and over. Fear of actually attracting
attention held me back, but fear of dying here pushed me past an
intrinsic barrier.
For each repetition, I envisioned the words
as louder than the chant before them, the volume ever-increasing,
until I was sure I was shouting throughout an entire mental
universe.
I kept this up even as a feeling of impending
doom swept over me. Again, I might have stopped… but survival
instinct kept me going.
Then, eight minutes and seven seconds after
I'd begun, it happened.
I opened my eyes and looked out.
A shadowed face flickered beyond the candle's
flame, shifting shade dancing across darker darkness. It wasn't
really here, and I wasn't really looking. I understood that… but I
still felt a chill seize me.
It smiled hungrily, its teeth a row of jagged
voids barring infinite blackness. Congratulations, you've
attracted attention.
I had nothing to offer it, and nothing to
keep me safe. As the author had told me, human rituals were
probably useless in the face of entities that existed beyond the
physical realms. I knew there were other realities that I could
travel to, if I had the means, but this thing was from
somewhere else entirely. But, as my contact had also informed me,
all things followed logic in at least some sense. My only hope was
that some part of its value system overlapped with ours.
"Wait," I thought aloud. "It's important that
I talk to you."
It always is, it whispered back, its
empty eyes icy. None of you ever want to be
consumed. How short-sighted of you.
I didn't ask what it meant by that, and I
didn't want to know. "Are you aware of what's happening? Are you
aware of the Crushing Fist?"
It hissed softly, but did not kill me or
consume me or anything else. It waited. I assumed that meant it was
at least open to my proposal, and that the Crushing Fist meant
something to it.
"I… want to work with you, or make some sort
of deal with you. I need to get out of here. I need to be able to
help others of my kind more directly, or we're all in trouble."
Something behind it moved, and I realized…
the vague humanoid shape before my awareness was a front. The real
entity behind it lay shrouded in darkness, both massive and elegant
at the same time. I dared not look directly for fear of offending
it.
You have no idea what you're up
against, it finally replied. But I envy your ignorance. You
scramble ever forward, like bugs in mud, like fivhen in squuar . You don't even stop when you're already
doomed, dead, or vwaal . That obstinance is, likely,
the only organic trait worthy of mention.
"So you'll help me?" I asked, confused.
It grinned again, its mock shadowed face
stretching horribly. Didn't you hear me? You're already vwaal . You cannot be helped. You
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