It awoke, they all did. It was weird for all of them, to wake up and find themselves in an abandoned city once thriving with people. But not a single person was seen throughout the entire area, causing a mass confusion within the creations. The creations didn’t know what anything was, they knew what to do, how to do things, but as far as what their purpose was, why they were there it was as ambiguous as the sled and the cabin. Number 16 had gone to one of the structures within the town, searching for clues as to their existence, much like a human would do. At the end of the day they concluded the search, for nothing had been found.

They had a sort of collective conscious, not one that which is talked about when mentioning archetypes, but a literal collective conscious, where all the beings shared the same information. They were separate beings in a sense, but if one knew something they all knew it, no creation was special, each was the same as the other and in a sense there was only one large mass of creations. They had a large library already installed into them, and they learned about humans, mainly religion, but they saw it all. They looked at all the events humans had gone through for the next few days, and soon enough they had reached the year 2500 where the information had stopped.

So they concluded from their studies that they could have been possibly created by either of 3 candidates: Trees, which possessed the properties able to grow such a creation; Ants, having the capabilities of doing practically anything; and finally there are slime molds, which are incredibly smart. However they soon realized that all these creatures were extinct, and thus decided to reconsider. They decided against an all-powerful being that favored only their species as a way of giving themselves purpose. They also decided against religion in general, they didn’t feel the human desire for answers, they decided to leave it blank.

After having this settled they looked at the history of those idiotic humans. To begin with they decided against declaring,’They couldn’t shoot an elephant from this distance!’ as this would cause them to die instantly. They decided against discrimination, because in the end they were the same. They looked at several wars, and came to the conclusion that some people could Nazi, and this lead them to their defeet. So they made sure they could see their feet, for fear of losing them. They decided against having beliefs in general, as they always caused conflict. They also figured out that they should act completely different from humans, because humans had a tendency to screw everything up. Most anything that could be thought of was already ruined by humanity, although ironically Adam actually made things better.

They didn’t really have any names, just numbers, they found it efficient to designate a number to each individual, skipping the ones that took too long to pronounce. Numbers such as one, two and thirty were highly envied, as they were the easiest to pronounce. The creations also decided on anarchy, everyone was smart enough to not kill each other, thus there was no need for rules. The lack of beliefs also helped the anarchy, for not even conflict could arise. They decided that everyone would be a police so they could all enjoy donuts, which according to their research were the only individuals who ate donuts. And that concluded the first week of their existence.

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“Sir, could you please step out of your vehicle.” The officer said, to which the driver replied, “And why is that sir? What have I done?”. “We just want to check your vehicle, we have reason to suspect a dangerous criminal is in the car and wants to kill you.” The officer said, trying to get the person to cooperate with him. “I haven’t done anything! I’ve not broken a law!” He said, retaliating against the officer. “Sir, cou-” began the officer, but was interrupted with the man,”You’re violating my rights! I know my rights! Don’t think I don’t know them! I haven’t done anything wrong!”.

The officer was beginning to become impatient,”Sir, can you please step out of your vehicle for a brief second, we need to see if there’s a cri-”. “No! What did I do? I did nothing! You’re violating my rights!” He interrupted, repeating the same argument with the officer. Before the officer could respond there was a gunshot, and the driver was killed. Out from the backseat the criminal opened the door and ran away. It was another painful day for the officer, for the Sky City was full of these people. Everyone was suspicious of the government, any act to try and save the citizens was deterred, everything was bad.

The officer began to run after the criminal, firing a missile at him to paralyze him. But soon enough people saw this and began to toss things at the officer, he had failed to stop the criminal from killing the driver. As he chained the criminal a wave of people came, noted that he was arresting a criminal with green eyes and began to protest. “Stop The Discrimination!” They chanted, “Officers Hate Green Eyes!”. They spat on the officer, trying to stop the arrest meanwhile the others reprimanded him for lack of effort. He finally began to get out of the crowd, placing the criminal into his truck.

The crowd began to criticize one another, causing yet another fight. “Look over there!” One said,”That person has 3 freckles!”. They had become outrageously discriminatory to the point where anyone with 3 freckles on their lower left cheek was an idiot. If someone had two wrinkles when they bent their left elbow at a 47 degree angle on a sunday they were officially satan’s accomplices. The combinations became so ridiculously long they even published a book with a collection of all the 5,768 different races, 500 of which were inferior.

The Officer continued his day, pulling over ‘Bad Bradd’ a teenager who was infamous for his graffiti. He was pulled over while he was driving, as he was under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug. “You can’t be on the streets.” The officer said,”You might cause a wreck.”. But being a teenager, he replied,”I’m the best driver there ever was! Plus I’m good, that’ll never happen to me!”. He was instructed to go home, and being the person he was he instead decided to try and drive away. He went around, travelling 8,000 miles per hour faster than the speed limit. He skidded around, and soon enough crashed, wrecking his car and landing him in the hospital. Instead of drawing the sane conclusion that he sucked at driving, shouldn’t speed and definitely shouldn’t be under influence he did something else. There had been a donut in his car, so he decided it was the reason he’d crashed.He vowed to never have a donut in his car ever again, because it of course had caused the crash.

The Officer often wondered to himself how the city could sustain itself if it didn’t have instant teleportation upon injury. You would think this ordinary day of his couldn’t get any worse, and yet it did. A woman had called the police, and as he arrived at the scene he soon realized it was another 57’. This referred to an event in 57 in which a person had identified a chicken as a hostile enemy willing to murder him. In this case the woman was refused a gorbijebbi because they lacked supplies, so she had dialed 911 to apprehend the restaurant worker.

After explaining to the outraged woman he couldn’t do so because the worker hadn’t done anything wrong he walked out of the building. He received cries from both sides, they either threw rocks at him because he didn’t arrest the worker, or because he didn’t arrest the woman. The Officer got into his car, getting yet another 57’, which was unusual since he’d only gotten 2 of those so far. On most days he’d usually receive around 4-5 57’s, ranging from situations. He arrived just in time to see a person apologizing to another enraged person, and stepped out. “What seems to be the trouble?” He asked, expecting with great certainty the enraged person had an idiotic reason to be angry.

“This man’s dog attacked my child!” The man complained, to which the person replied,”Officer, I swear, I brought my dog to our party and he played with the child for a bit.”. The Officer knew this person well, and dismissed the enraged person as a mere lunatic. “Ye might want to be careful, people around here are crazy fools.” The Officer said, then entered his vehicle and drove home. He kept driving until he got a call from the government, a cloud of mist came out from his car and formed the president of the city. “Hey Stan, we’ve gotten reports of an inmate attempting to escape from the prison. You might want to check it out.”.

Although most reports were mere rubbish, when the president called he knew something was severely wrong. Stan wheeled his seat around, going from 1,600 mph west to 1,590 east in a matter of milliseconds. He drove up the dome surrounding the city, waiting until the right time and released the vehicle from the dome. His vehicle took a dive down, landing in front of the prison gates, bounding up and finally landing upright in the perimeters. He stepped out, loading his paralysis missile launcher with 5 rounds, readying in case of an onslaught of escaped prisoners.

Another officer pulled up behind Stan, and soon enough more came, totalling to be around 7 officers. Two officers stayed behind, readying their rapid fire tranquilizer darts in case of an emergency. There were two officers at each side of Stan, readying their weapon of choice. He opened the door, and sure enough the prisoners had been busy readying their defenses during the time it had taken to get there. The building was surrounded by tall fences, which in this case was a disadvantage for the officers. Out of the upper windows several bottles were thrown, which on closer inspection were identified as home-made citrus bombs. As they hit the ground an orange gas rapidly spread across the field, burning the little exposed skin that the officers had. Thankfully their uniform had a great deal of protection, but nonetheless the burn was still felt and their viewing range greatly decreased.

Out stepped the ring leader, a short prisoner holding his long barreled field generator, and turning to the officers said,”Long live the king.”. With that he shot a field, deflected by one of the officer’s tactfully made shot and hit the dome, causing a brief rupture. It was enough however, to act as a sort of distraction for the prisoners. Making sure to reduce visibility further, they hurriedly crouch-ran along the sides of the fence, blasting the earth with their guns. The earth began to expand, cracking in separate chunks and creating a sort of hill. All the officers took cover as the earth exploded, bits of dust and dirt flying through the air.

Stan pulled out his own arsenal, selecting one item and tossed it over the area. He signaled with his hands, one finger up and another half bent to signify to the others to cover their ears. The item generated sound so loud it tore up the ground and smoke, clearing the air and bursting the ring leader’s ear drums. Stan signaled again, this time telling them to go, and as they rose up the other prisoners came out, trying to stop the officers. Shots were literally fired, paralyzing the entire fleet of prisoners in a single quick round of shots and explosions. Soon enough it was just the ring leader standing, using a sort of field to protect himself. “You can’t take my democracy away from me!” He yelled, to which Stan signed to him, Neither can I take your stupidity. With that he hit the field with an electric knife, in a literal ground-breaking feat.



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“Why did you take me?” Cody asked, looking around the Bessie. Spot sat next to Cody, also with a hood over his face. “We figured that you two might know a bit about the agency. Taking you along would allow us to know the maneuvers of the police and you could also provide as hostages.” The Black Hound replied, a dark cloud shrouding most of his body. “So where are we going again?” Cody asked, still trying to shake off the hood from his face. “The grinder.” Was the other’s reply, and for a second there was a silence. “I don’t like the sounds of it.” Spot said, shaking off the hood to face the Black Hound. “What would happen if we both refused to give any intel?” “Then we will consider other means of extraction.” The Black Hound said.

“Torture!?” Screamed the now terrified Cody. “No! - Where the ex did you get that idea? We do have a rather old but still functional data extracter. However, it doesn’t have a filter, so anything you might be hiding will be revealed.” Said the Black Hound. “Not my secrets!” Cody exclaimed, accidently tipping the chair he was tied to over. The Black Hound put his hand over his snout, in a stance much like that of a person facepalming. “Pick him up.” He said, which was done. “So you will comply; otherwise we will be forced to use our old data extractor. Now tell me, what’s the first thing your department does to locate a fugitive?”

“Depends,” Spot began, but rather hesitantly,”on your status, irritability, dangerousness, influence and species.” “Continue . . .” The Black Hound said, intrigued by the updated version of the pursuance code. “But based upon what I know they’d check your deals. Each dog is given an ID at birth, a sort of barcode to help keep everyone safe. They’ll use these IDs to track down specific information about your deals, run it through a machine and figure out what your last deal was, and what it was. From there they would go to the place where you have to acquire the item and attempt to apprehend or annihilate you.” Spot finished. “Good, they haven’t changed that procedure. I’ve already bought us some time, 5 absolute years, we’re going to have to figure out how to portion our years out. Billy, I need you to go into council, tell them the circumstance, I want to find how much distance we can cover in that amount of time.” The Black Hound said. Billy did as he was told, taking a few of the dogs from the command center into a seperate room with him.

“What do you mean portion out your years? What’s absolute time?” Cody asked, about as confused as most of you probably are. The Black Hound looked at him rather incredulously, as most dogs nowadays knew about relativity. “It’s relativity.” Spot informed Cody,”He uses 2 different sets of times.” “I don’t get it.” Cody said, still confused. “Look kid, I use 2 different times for everything. Absolute time and relative time.” The Black Hound said,”Absolute time keeps track of everything going normal speed goes through time. Relative time is the time that I experience.” “Why do you need 2 times? Doesn’t time go just as fast for everybody?” Cody asked. “No. When you reach near-light speeds time goes slower for you than it does for everyone else.” Spot explained,”And different speeds change time differently, so you have to figure out how to portion out the time.”

“I still don’t get the portioning of time.” Cody stated, gnawing at the ropes that held him to the chair. “Let’s say you go 100% the speed of light,” Spot said,”to get to a place 5 light years away, it’ll take you 5 years. However if you only go let’s say 99.99% of the speed, it’ll only take around 26 relative days. ” “The challenge,” The Black Hound picked up from Spot’s explanation,”is to figure out how to get there the fastest both in relative terms and absolute. If we only go 99.99% the speed of light the police will be able to catch up to us, but if we go the speed of light it’d take years though we may not be caught. We also need to make relative time not last too long, but at the same time make sure it isn’t hard to overshoot the distance. If it only took 1 day in relative time, then stopping the vehicle by only a second off would launch us straight into a blackhole.”

That being said, The Black Hound walked up the stairs to his seat in the center of the single eye the Bessie possessed. He looked out into space, finally after a while of his work he was able to rest and appreciate his beautiful yet old, Bessie. The thing was shaped like a beetle, yet it had only one eye at the head that was the command center for the entire ship. The Bessie was the size of several miles, with its 6 limbs it was able to manoeuvre incredibly quickly, even on planets. The legs were at the moment parallel with the ship’s body, sporting thrusters that used space-time fabric as a sort of railway. The ship was painted a dark and glossy black, meant to blend with the dark void of space. The interior was incredibly spacey, a majestic almost palace for those who were in it.

The Black Hound pulled out a picture of the planet he had seen destroyed. It was the one thing he had cherished, it was comparable to a human seeing the Earth being destroyed. He hated the business of planet mining, but he didn’t have an answer as to how to stop it. He looked down at his hands, the wisps of fur going up in an almost smoke-like pattern. His curse of immortality had done nothing but tormented, he hated it beyond all measure. He could not end his suffering, for in the future he would go back to save himself from being killed. He could not do anything to stop the events, because he knew that since he saw them happen he would fail to stop the event. He understood the universe like no other philosopher, and yet the public denounced his works, he was the villain, and the world mining companies the heros. Why someone would go out of their way to destroy a planet for resources, he knew not. He simply knew it was an act of desperation, but it was not an act he approved of.

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I guess it is my turn to tell my part of this history. While I know you may not ever understand this complex tale, it is important to note how difficult an event in history is to understand fully. There are too many sides, too many events for one to take too much note, and while I’ve done my best to shorten the story, there is no expectation that you might memorize all of this. With that, I will tell my part as the interviewer.

So there I was, walking on the shores of my town ‘Jinbul’ when I get a report about the port on the dock again. So it was a
report re-port, or perhaps a rereport of a port. Whatever the matter, I rushed to the site to find the most strangest of all situations. One of the boats was departing, a giant lizard had latched to the side and at the helm of the vehicle was something small. I took out my binoculars, and when I saw the small marshmallow beings I nearly had a heart-attack. I know my father told me stories about the marshmallow people, but I always thought she had done that to act as a bedtime-story. I was a sleepy child if you could not tell, my sleep period happened every 8 hours, which is probably too much sleep, as most others would make each sleep period occur every 12.5 hours. Apparently at one point some people slept every 12 hours, and they could look at the sky to tell when to go to sleep. Some knowledge they had! I look up at the smoky sky and I can’t figure anything out, I guess people were smarter then than they are now.

Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. You have to forgive me, I get sidetracked easily. One time I kept meandering from the main subject for an entire hour! I didn’t do it on purpose, I was actually eager to learn about how babies were made, the mystery seemed to elude me for several years and finally I was big enough to know. It wasn’t very surprising though, I’d heard of designer babies, it made sense all babies were made in the lab. I have read a few texts beforehand about designer babies, and apparently they didn’t always exist. I say that’s utter lies, how could a boy make a baby if he was physically incapable of doing so? Some say boys evolved to not give birth after a while, but that doesn’t make any sense either.

So I was walking down the shore, it’s a beautiful beach by the way if you’d like to check it out. The seas are not as goopy as the other shores, and the smell is much more tolerable. Where was I? Oh right, so I ran down the port trying to grab onto the rope when all of a sudden there was an explosion, and some sort of flying bug came out of nowhere. I called the police, and they came over as quickly as possible. Frankly that isn’t very fast. The government needs to upgrade their police; it takes forever for them to get anywhere. They haven’t even updated their technology since last week. I mean, there is the new method of getting news, which is instant, why would I want it instant if I can just check the news each minute?

The police came a little late, as everybody was now on the port trying to get away from the scene. He took everyone to jail, and I am now interviewing everybody. We have the Black Hound here, the Marshamals, the crazy scientist guy, did I ever tell you how much I hate crazy? Crazy people are the worst, it’s like they can’t even keep their focus on anything! You start talking to one and they’ll just ignore whatever you ask them. They won’t stop ranting and going off into tangents, those darn crazies. Here I am, and I am currently taking a lunch break because lunch is good. Today my dad packed me a jello-zirgen sandwhich, he is so nice to me. Ever since my brother passed he has been acting weird, incredibly weird. I once found him eating a Gingerbread pen in the middle of the town. He wasn’t wearing anything, so I had to get him clothes so no one would see that he was cold.


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The officer ate his bread, looking out the window, he was taking his lunch break. He stepped out of the car, watching as several ships came back and connected to the dome to power it. He walked up to one ship as the captain came down to salute him. “Good morning Captain Grenell!” He said, shaking his hand. “Not quite morning.” Grenell said, taking out his planisphere to check the time. “Did you find anything?” The officer asked. “Another ship was struck down, it’s worrying me.” Grenell said, to which the officer replied,”Not that, I meant land.” “Oh! Yes, I did find some the land people haven’t claimed, but we’re going to have to go soon.” Grenell said. The officer’s radio went off, he pushed it back into his ear and began to see the transmission being sent.

The owner of the city appeared before him, being transmitted via chemicals that stimulated the neurons in his head. “Officer, we have a bit of an issue with one of the rebels. If you could co-” he began but was interrupted with the Officer saying,”On it!”. Grenell understood what that meant, and continued to unload his ship with his crew. He handed out paychecks to everyone, giving a few a little extra to compensate for the extreme peril they had been in. “See ya back in 4 days!” He said, hoisting down his supplies and nets. He was one of the few who understood that the government was perfect, in the sense that it was the best one he could ask for. While it was a dictatorship, it was the only dictatorship that didn’t somehow screw up the government. He sat down, resting his tired body for a bit until finally getting up to finish unloading. The ship wouldn’t be used until next week, and then for an intensive 5 hours for 3 days, and at the end of that period the weekend began again. It was a custom for most business owners to have 15 hour a day workweeks, as lengthening the time was a stupid endeavour, as it tired the employees and the quality went down drastically.

The officer on the other hand, was driving to the rebel facility, when he noticed something out the window. A man, hooded and shadowy was running away from the area, he was holding an electric knife, the letters ‘HM’ engraved in it. While the officer had seen an electric knife, he had never seen the logo that had been stamped onto the knife. He continued to drive anyway, finally reaching the rebel rehabilitation facility, otherwise known as prison. While most prisons depicted in your times are inefficient wastes of tax dollars to somehow rehabilitate people without education and mentally torturing them with solitary, this prison was a good one. Several idiotic punishments had been taken away, such as, but not limited to, the death sentence, solitary, the rancid hunger, and of course Lamarck's Curse. The officer walked through the prison, each door leading to a large cell filled with basic necessities such as food, water, toilets, tv, and of course, stuffed animals.

The officer reported to the main office, swiping his keycard to verify his clearance level. The attendee was busy announcing winners of the raffle on the speakers, so the officer had to wait for quite some time. “Sir, he is waiting you two doors down on the left.” He said. The officer walked down the hall and entered the room; sure enough there was a rebel having a fit in front of the owner. “Who is this?” The officer asked, because he’d never seen the person before. “No idea, you took training classes on the psychologically broken correct?” The owner asked, to which the officer affirmed. “Good, you handle him, I’ve got a meeting to attend. Something about people disrespecting the octowalrus.” and with that the owner was gone. “Where am I?” He asked, a question that would become frequent during his visit. “We call it the Sky Citadel, Sky City. We’re not really quite sure what a sky is, but it sounds good enough.” The officer said, sitting down on one of the bean bags in the room.

“Oh, no no no no! I can’t be here!” He said, and began to panic, the officer didn’t know exactly why. “What’s your name?” “Jeremy, the name’s Jeremy.” Jeremy told the officer. “You have to let me get to the ground, I need to stop the Tafectorum before he does something that I’ll regret!” Jeremy said, desperately trying to exit the door, but failing due to the chemicals lacing the doorway. “It doesn’t work that way.” The officer said, “And how high of a clearance level do you have?”. “What do you mean?” Jeremy said, rather confused at the question. “Only level 5 and up know about the ground.” The officer elaborated,”How did you even find out about it?”. “So the ground is classified information!?” Jeremy asked in disbelief,”What kind of a government are you guys working for?”.

“A good one, now answer, how did you find out about it?” The officer asked, trying to get an answer out of the shaken up Jeremy. “What kind of government makes the ground classified information?” Jeremy asked, still rather confused as to why someone would classify that information. “Hey! Quit avoiding the question!” The officer said, frustrated with this adolescent. “I know about the ground, because I lived on the ground.” Jeremy finally answered. “But that’s impossible! Ever since the World War everyone below has been killed!” The officer said, trying to see if Jeremy was really from the ground. “No, that’s wrong.” Jeremy stated,”There’s more people below.”. “So you are from there. . . Tell me this Jeremy, why did you attack us?”.


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The Black Hound looked behind him, and knew he was in trouble. The police were heading at him, but the vehicle was moving at a percentage close to the speed of light, and the police were moving at the speed of light. Cody looked out the window, his tongue hanging out, but his eyes rather fearful of what might happen. “What’re we going to do?” Spot asked, as he was not familiarized with weaponry. “Ready the rippler!” The Black Hound said, as he got down from his chair and into another seat. He aimed the ‘Rippler’ behind him and fired. The gun shot a grapeshot of incredibly dense objects out, which might seem like a normal grapeshot, but you have to familiarize yourself with a few things. Dense objects happen to have a high amount of gravity, and with that they also bend time and space around them. So when the shot occurred, space-time literally rippled, parts teared, which caused the police vehicle to swivel off course.

Swivelling off course in a car is not a very dramatic thing, since you are not going all that fast and you are not in pursuit of any other car. Do keep in mind that when you go diagonally you move less forward and more to the side. So during a pursuit of near-light speeds, swivelling even the slightest of degrees causes the vehicle to lose a lot of ground, or rather space in this instance. That is precisely what this did, making the police backtracked by several light-minutes. However this time was not noticed very much by the crew, as near-light speeds made time go by incredibly fast.

“Any advice would be nice right now!” Yelled The Black Hound from the panel he was working in. “These aren’t from Excronite!” Cody said,”I think they’re part of the galactic police.”. “I don’t recall getting in trouble with them,” The Black Hound said,”except for those in CB-18. They were a nightmare to deal with.”. He aimed another weapon at the vehicle behind them, which ran off the engine’s fuel. “Sir, if you fire this, we will not be able to reach the Grinder in time! The police will catch us if you fire it!” Oswald said, looking concerned at the screen in front of him. “If we don’t, we’ll not get these guys off our tails!” The Black Hound said, and readied the cannon. The ship was hit, the tachyons penetrated the ship’s shield, causing the ship to intake all of the exhaust from The Bessie and explode in a silent display of flameless fire. The Black Hound waited a bit and then fired the tachyon cannon.

“Why’d you fire it?” Cody asked, incredulous that the Black Hound had wasted their engine fuel. “The only reason the ship was destroyed was because I had fired it. Tachyons go back in time, they’re basically the opposite of normal matter.” The Black Hound said, “Turn down our speed, we have to save on energy.”. “Wait, how does your engine run on things going back in time?” Cody asked, even more intrigued on the ship’s engine. “It’s a pretty old technique Cody, it’s a sort of loophole in the math. It takes an infinite amount of energy to make something go the speed of light, and guess what also takes an infinite amount of energy?”. “Chameleons?” Cody guessed. “No, slowing down a tachyon. Tachyons technically go faster than light, but because nothing can, they go backwards in time to compensate. So we use an old energy system to keep the tachyons contained, however we have directly linked the tachyons to our ship,so we can go the speed of light, and sometimes even faster.” responded the Black Hound.

“Sir, we’ve got to land, we’re low on supplies.” Oswald said, taking another sip from his mug. “Oswald!” Screamed Billy, who had entered the room,”What’d I tell you about my donuts?!”. “What donuts?” Oswald asked, while gobbling up the donuts he pretended to not know of. “Come back ‘here!” Billy yelled, running after Oswald as they began chasing each other. Oswald being a bulldog, and Billy being more of a dockson made the chase a bit unfair, as Billy’s short legs could not keep up with Oswald’s pace.

“They’re all puppies.” The Black Hound said, rather affectionately,”Billy, those aren’t your donuts.” “Then whose are they?” Asked Billy, to which the Black Hound pointed to the sticky note on the box, reading ‘Oswald’. “We have to dock the ship!” He ordered, walking into a stand that happened to be propped up next to his seat,”What sector are we closest to?” “We’re in the sector CB-18, just past the Yurgan Hole.” replied Billy. “Let’s land on the Ajurns planet, seems to be our safest bet.” The Black Hound replied. The vessel began to slow down, taking a sharp right and straight towards a planet.

The planet was not like a planet you might be accustomed to, it was not an obloid sphere, although the atmosphere was, the surface was an irregular shape. It wasn’t really a shape in the sense that it was not a single shape, but rather a moving shifting planet, powered by the heat of the inner core. As they approached the planet it became more apparent that the planet was made of a sort of metal. Even more so, it was like a cluster of dodecahedrons, more like a snake in space than a planet. Every other minute they would see one dodecahedron collapse on itself, releasing the other dodecahedrons attached which would attach again to others as they fell to the barycenter. They landed on the planet, the legs from the Bessie had become perpendicular with the ground and were propelling the ship up to lighten the landing.

“Ok, we’ll settle here for the next two days. In the meantime we’ll gather resources,” Said The Black Hound, who then turned on the speaker,”Group A: Bessie Maintenance; Group B: Gather resources Group C: Stay on the ship and figure out where the police are. Group D: With me!”. Everyone then exited their rows. Some stayed in their row and began to work on their computers, but most exited to do as ordered. “Where do we go?” Spot asked, to which The Black Hound waved his hand towards him, implying he wanted them to follow. The door opened, revealing a long hallway with several doors that ended with a staircase.

A dog exited one room, holding a paper and reported to The Black Hound,”Sir, we have to repair our Unifier or if not we won’t get past the Grinder.” “What’s wrong with it?” The Black Hound asked. “The wiring has been overheated to the point of breaking.” The dog said, a scream was then heard, and he went back into the room. They walked down the stairway and out into another room with weapons and suits. “Take one of each,” The Black Hound said as other dogs stormed into the room and began grabbing supplies. Cody and Spot proceeded to get their equipment, throwing on the suits and letting it adjust itself. As they were putting on their suits the Bessie shuddered, causing Spot to fall on his face

“What was that!?” He asked, being a bit concerned over the shake. “It’s one of the parts of the planet; it happened to fall on top of the ship. Don’t worry, The Bessie has a force field; most everything gets pushed off.” The Black Hound explained, charging up his weapon. He then proceeded to ensure everyone had their suits on, as the atmosphere contained an unhealthy amount of chlorine. “All your guns contain sodium; the reaction will cause a sort of fireball to be shot from your weapons. However, if your gun is to break, you must get away from it as quickly as possible.” He then hit the button, opening the cargo bay and letting them out into the landscape.


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“So you won’t talk?” The Officer asked, to which to much surprise Jeremy did not talk. “Follow me down the hallway, we’ve got some interrogation to do.” He said, leading Jeremy down the hallway and finally to a door. Jeremy noted a person in the door opposite them who was screaming out painfully. “What’s wrong with him?” He asked. “He has a type of disease that fires up all his nerves to the point where he is literally feeling the most pain he can feel.” The Officer said, continuing to knock on the door. A man had pulled up to the person who was suffering and told him,”You shouldn’t be crying; some people have more sensitivity, suck it up.” “How is that supposed to help!? I’m still dying!” The person painfully dying asked, then began another round of screams.

The door then opened, and The Officer lead Jeremy down to a chair, next to which lay a polygraph on top of a table. “Are you going to test me with the lie detector?” Asked Jeremy. The Officer looked at him incredibly confused and then said,”Oh this? Pfftt, that thing’s never worked. It’s just here as a reminder that our government is made of intelligent people; not idiots who use machines with no scientific proof.” The Officer sat Jeremy down, taking a cap and placing it on his head. “This is a better way. I say better because your memories aren’t perfect, but it can tell what you think are truths and lies.” The Officer said, “We’ll begin with a test question; Is the sky blue?”. Jeremy replied in the negative, and the lie detector confirmed that was true. The Officer looked puzzled at Jeremy until he finally remembered that Jeremy was from the surface, so to him it was grey. “You look confused, may I ask why?” Jeremy asked, to which The Officer replied,”The sky is blue here. Huh. . . It’s like I told you, it’s a better lie detector. You didn’t lie, you just didn’t know the truth.”

“Ok, here is where the interrogation begins. I will ask a series of questions and you will answer them the best you can. How did you get here?” The Officer asked. Jeremy paused for a moment and then said he didn’t know, which the lie detector cap confirmed. “Just to make sure, you are from the surface correct?” The Officer asked, which was responded in the positive and confirmed by the lie detector. “Do you know anything about the attacks or the escaped fugitive?” The Officer asked, which Jeremy denied, and was a truth according to the lie detector. “I was hoping for something more conclusive. You are free, and since you don’t have a place to go, you can just follow me.” The Officer said. The Officer then led Jeremy to his car and they both hopped in.

“You said your government was perfect,” Jeremy began,”but how is it so? Aren’t utopias impossible?” At that moment a giant hot-air balloon flew overhead, with a few people in it. “Where are they going?” Jeremy then asked, peering out the windows. “I don’t know. They’re adventurous fellows; but there’s not much to explore.” The Officer said, watching the people wave at him. “How long might it take them?” Jeremy asked, which was responded with,”I don’t know. It could take anywhere in between 5 weeks and 80 days.” “So, back to the government; it can’t be perfect.” Jeremy said. “It is. Granted the people are the worst, but those in power are incredibly benevolent.” “If the people are the worst, how do people in power with good ideals even voted in?” “They aren’t. We’re a sort of dictatorship. Letting the idiots run the country is what a . . .well, idiot would do.”

“Then how is corruption stopped?” “It isn’t. We just don’t have it.” The Officer then drove the vehicle out, getting a call from a man living on the edge of the dome. He made the vehicle go faster, but not fast enough to cause a wreck. Jeremy was almost to the point of vomiting, he was not used to this speed. All of a sudden the car stopped, and Jeremy, expecting the momentum to launch him forward, lunged backwards to counteract the momentum that never came. In front of them was a person holding up a sign that read,”No Big Pigs!”, protesting a recent ruling that allowed genetic modification. The Officer peered out of the window and asked them,”Could you get out of the way?”

They did as he asked, and The Officer continued to drive to his home. “So, the surface, how’s that place like?” He asked, turning the vehicle into the garage and parking it. The garage then retracted upwards, being absorbed into the giant T-shaped building that was his home. “It’s incredibly dull down there. If anything there’s a giant monster trying to attack you every other minute.” Jeremy said, taking a step out of the car and inside of The Officer’s home. “That beats having to deal with these idiots.” The Officer said, “It’s a miracle these guys haven’t killed our citadel yet.” They entered The Officer’s living room, and sat down on the old but comfortable couch. They sat there, a bit unaware that there was a ship travelling down next to their citadel. Inside the ship was The Black Hound, searching for the life creating machine.


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Hoover Rutger was a Christian, but he did not believe like the others did. His society was a very hopeful and optimistic one, despite being surrounded by darkness. It was strange, Hoover thought, to live in such a dark world and yet believe in such thing as blinding light. He knew God was looking down on them as they went about their lives, but he felt he needed to do what was possible to save others. The people in his village were very religious, not all of them were of the same religion, but all had one.

He continued to drag the person out of the house, as all was on fire. He felt the heat wave hit him, and although he felt like giving up, he continued to drag the person out. The building had accidently been set on fire, and Hoover was the only one inside helping get people out. He was literally the only one, as they had all resorted to prayer and had no fear of following God’s desired plan. He opened the window of the church, looking out onto the rocky street, and launched the person out onto it. The person fell for two stories and then hit the pavement.

Hoover then ducked back into the church, as it continued to burn. He found another person, who was calmly sitting down and praying. Hoover kicked open the door next to the person and launched her down the flight of stairs. He had cleared the second story, so he went down the stairs, closing what was left of the broken door behind him. He then dragged the woman past the pews and out onto the street, where a crowd had gathered. Hoover went back in the building, for he knew there was another person left. He went up to room he had seen the person last and opened the door. Inside was the person, watching the flames slowly consume their body. Hoover was frightened beyond all imagination when he saw this, and put a drape over the man on fire.

“That was my one ticket out of here!” The man said, upset that he was no longer burning,”Now how am I supposed to get to heaven? I can’t suicide because that’s sin! I’m going to have to wait for another fire.” Hoover dragged this person out of the building and onto the street. He looked back at the church on fire, it was a beautiful sight, but it was sad to see such a thing burn down. He was glad they could just rebuild it by growing a few trees. It did take a while, but they’d grow thanks to the bright city lights. Hoover liked the lights, they never went out nor dimmed. It would be strange if they had stopped working at one point, or if they were powered by a generator that not even they knew how it worked. He was glad that they understood it well enough to invent new items of the sort, but it’d always been intriguing to think that that would or could ever happen.

Out on the street there was a person, and he was holding a knife. He ran towards Hoover, who lunged to the side, narrowly dodging the person trying to stab him. “All of this is fake!” He said, as people began to form a sort of circle around them. “God is real.” Hoover said, to which the man replied,”What sorts of lies do they feed you? There is no almighty being that punishes right or wrong; there is no one!” The man had lost it, in a later investigation they had found he suffered several tragedies. After those he thought there was no god. They had taught him since he was young to be good because there was a god, but now that that was gone he was the most dangerous of them all. He had nothing; no moral code, no reasoning to make him be good, and now he was going to kill.

Hoover looked at him, he saw the pain in his eyes, and he walked up to the man, taking hold of his arm, and said,”You don’t have to do this.” The man then stabbed Hoover, and the knife being stuck in Hoover’s lungs, was no longer a threat. The crowd around them got a hold of the man, taking him off to a rehabilitation area. Hoover lay bleeding, he was dying, and fast. The people around him gathered and prayed for Hoover, and to no one’s surprise he felt better. Hoover pulled out the knife, the wound had healed beneath the shirt, and he felt no more pain from the area. Everyone around him then went on with their lives, as the construction crew came in to fix the burnt down church. Religion was the only thing that held this city together, the darkness surrounding it would have crushed many people’s hopes. Here, thanks to religion, people of all beliefs were thriving and existing harmoniously together.

Among the crowd Hoover had noticed someone in a cloak whose eyes seemed to glow. Hoover didn’t mind too much at the moment, but he did take note of it. He went home, setting a few of the burned pieces of wood he had collected onto his pile. Everytime he had to save another person he got a souvenir from the area and added it to the stack as a reminder. The thing had grown to such an immense size it had its own room in his house.

He sat down, fatigued from the day’s work, and took out a book to read from. Each day something new would happen, and each day he had to be there to prevent deaths. He was used to it by now, it was a routine, just as it was a routine for him to read. It was the only way he was able to carry on, reassurance that he always had someone up there who cared for him. He prepared for the next day, as he knew it would be special. The Conversion Ring was going to happen the next day, an event that was celebrated by everybody. Hoover often found it interesting to watch the young people choose what religion they wanted, it was interesting to him to find motives for actions. He went to bed, as the next day would be a very good one. Like all stories of this nature, we know that that statement is far from the truth.

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Jonathan Adams woke up one day, today would be the day it began. He arose from his bed, putting his phone aside despite it having a missed call from someone. He got dressed, putting on one of his many suits that was purple in color. He walked down his main hall, the early morning beginning to stream in, as he yawned. Today was another day. Up to this point his life had become rather pointless, all that would soon change. He had given up trying to find someone who could be there for him when he needed it most, the result of his last attempt was the missed call. He did not really call it life, in the sense that it was not well lived. Then again, what is a life? It was nothing more than a chemical reaction to Jonathan Adams. He did not feel his life, life being used to describe the span of his existence, was much more than a life, being used here to describe his existence.

There were people who had been there, but his parents had ceased to live several years ago, and now all he was left with was a large mansion and a huge sum of money. It was a hollow husk of a life he thought it to be. Most people saw him as the businessman, the one who deliberately went out of his way to destroy everything around him for no reason at all. He sat down at the table, taking a mug and making himself a cup of hot chocolate. He drank it, taking in the monotony that was his own life. He often pondered what life was in its entirety, if it was nothing more than an accident to be given meaning by either society or religion, or whether it was given a purpose, but changed due to government or science. Did one really have control over one’s life? Can one have control over life as a whole? The questions he asked are ones this book has been trying to answer.

He opened his laptop, checking to see if there were any new messages for him when he saw it. There was a rift in his laboratory, a sort of crack that his devices had detected. Surprised, he rushed to an elevator and spammed the button to go to his lab. His mind was racing, none of his experiments had been quite successful, and yet this one had succeeded. The door finally opened, and Jonathan Adams entered the room to find he had created an interuniversal rift. It was a slash, not like one you might have on your skin, but it resembled the grain of wood. Fitting himself with his space exploration equipment, Jonathan Adams hurriedly entered the rift without hesitation. He did not care if it might have killed him, his life wasn’t that important anyway.

Immediately, as he stepped through, he noted it was dark. There was nothing in the 3 dimensions he could feel or see, there was nothing there. There was no gravity, so he floated around, using a few jets to propel himself forward into the void. His space suit was made of a very thin fabric, tightly wound around him so as to make up for the pressure but allow mobility. His helmet was able to provide him with air, and if he was able to find a new source of air, it also absorbed and filtered the incoming air. For a while nothing happened, Jonathan Adams waited for something, anything to show up, to happen.

The first sign he saw was when the patch of laboratory on the other side of the rift began to behave funnily. A cup of chocolate he had left the other day was beginning to disperse heat differently. The chocolate got hotter as a block of solid ice began to form in the middle. Soon enough one vial teleported to a place where it should have fallen, but instead it went up, falling backwards. After a few minutes of similar things, the area around Jonathan Adams brightened, and in front of him appeared a being.

When people say being, it often conjures the image of some human like creature, and often when setting up the being to be powerful, you imagine it much to the likeness of one of your deities. The creature was not like any of these depictions however. The Archivist stood there, he was not called that when he was here with Jonathan, but that is what he shall be called to allow familiarity. His body was like a worm, with wrinkles that made the association of him to a worm stronger. His body was scattered all over the place, in between different dimensions, so it was hard to pinpoint where he was.

The Archivist was a being of multiple dimensions, and to explain his appearance I must begin with the 3rd and 2nd dimensions. If we take a 3D object, take a sphere, and we take a slice out of it to make it 2D, we get a circle. The 2nd dimension beings would only see the small slice of the sphere. If we stuck our hand into their world they would only see the circle that was in their world. Similarly, if we take an object of 4 dimensions, one that also goes in time, we only see a snippet of it. Let’s say we take a stack of discs, and each one is at a different time. A being of 4 dimensions would see the stack of discs, spread through time, but we would only be able to see one disc at a time. Similarly, this being, The Archivist, was a giant worm, but as he was spread throughout both time, the grain and the psyche, only parts of him were visible at one time and one place.

The Archivist looked down at Jonathan Adams, and within a few seconds he figured out a way to communicate to him. He set up a few gas clouds, each a different color, then nudged the yellow one with a part of his body. Jonathan Adams turned on the speaker he had installed and stated,”Who are you?”. Realizing that this being used sound waves to speak, the archivist changed the clouds to sounds. He then proceeded to nudge one of them. Jonathan Adams flew himself into one of the sounds, and was bombarded by high pitched sound waves. Jonathan Adams flew away from it, as it was unbearable.

The Archivist changed the sounds to a lower pitch, which also hurt Jonathan Adam’s ears. The Archivist finally changed the sounds to fit within the right pitch, so as to be able to communicate with him. Jonathan Adams asked again,”Who are you?”. The Archivist played the audio back to him, asking “Who are you?”. “I’m a homo sapien.” Jonathan Adams said, and The Archivist paused for a moment. He then attempted to speak in this language, ”Who I’m Ir You Naw” The being said, which was not understood by the billionaire in a purple suit. Jonathan Adams then opened and closed his hands rapidly to show the Archivist and said “Hand.” He then began using his legs and said, ”Leg”. Doing so with most every body part he had, he helped The Archivist figure out more of this language. However, English being the most inconsistent language, it did not help a great deal.

“Who you are, if you are leg, body, head, arm; not homo sapien.” Asked the Archivist, and reaching into the lab, pulled out a book Jonathan Adams was reading. “The Beginning We Might” The Archivist said, and opened the book to all the pages. All around Jonathan for a few seconds, the Archivist read the book, and was able to figure out several items surrounding this new species. “Human? What is wrong with you human? Why can you not see that you cannot see?” The Archivist asked. “What do you mean?” Asked Jonathan Adams.

“I have read that book, I’ve read it 500 times now. You cannot see that can you? You might think me strange, but you are stranger yet. I live in a place where this ‘time; of yours is little, there is little room in that aspect. You are given much more time than I’ll ever have, and you look funny because of it. I am a ‘worm’ of yours, and you are a worm yourself. If I were to ‘draw’ your shape it would look like a large fungus. You do not see that which is beyond your grasp, you cannot create without stealing, you cannot breathe but what is theirs, you cannot feel what is not, and you cannot help without pleasure. You human, yes you, are the worst of us all.”

“Who are you?”

“I am a creature, a being, call me what you like. I control all that goes on in your world, and I was given this simple world. Names are something I do not have, I’ve never an end, never a beginning. You seem to have gotten here via the rift, and soon enough you shall return.”

“How can you control our world?”

“It’s a simple one, it’s not too hard to do so.”

“What do you mean ‘simple one’?”

“Your universe is nothing but a bubble we found lying around. They gave your universe to me so I could control it, but it is nothing but 3 dimensions. I have done my best to not destroy this universe, but it already has an end, and is too stupid to realize it does.”

“There are more of you?”

“Correctly.”

“And what of the other universes?”

“There are no other universes in the sense that you might think it. Your own universe contains multiple possibilities, each a different thing. The other ones are much more than you can comprehend. They are more dimensions, more stranger, and to you it seems like chaotic behaviour, but to me it is as it is. You would understand if you could grasp things outside of your own sight. Your species cannot see what it has not seen. The other universes will come to an end however, as they make the same blunders your species does.”

“Can it be stopped?”

“Yes, but it is out of my hands. They no longer trust me with other universes.”

The rift began to shrink, as the reality around them shuddered. “You must go for now, I understand. But I will still see you, I am always watching.” Jonathan Adams stepped back into his lab as the rift sealed shut. He began to think, and it was this event that would begin his operation salvation. Most people would not understand his motives until centuries after he died, but he decided that day that he was to dedicate his life to saving the other universes from their certain demise. He would use his universe and sacrifice it, to play chess with it so as to cause its own demise. He did not want to have to do it, and after this he would ask the Archivist time and time again if there was another way.

But they did not trust The Archivist enough to let him bring out a species, and the only thing that would catch their attention would be the end of the universe. So Jonathan Adams, desperate to do something with his life, did not for a second doubt what the Archivist had told him. He neglected his own personal life to set up the world. But amidst all this, the phone was still in the place he always put it, and it was awaiting his response. Someone he had known for a while was calling, and they would never get a response back.

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The driver steered the van through the restaurant, stopping as soon as the window reached the cashier’s area. “I’m here for drive thru; I’ll take 7 of everything.” He said to the cashier, who stood there frozen. “Fine, I’ll get it myself.” He said and stepped out of the van and took all the food he could find onto it. He had accidently hit a person and sent them flying out the window, that person was now getting up and dialing the police. The driver got back in and drove out of the restaurant’s front door, and then swerved the van back onto the highway. He slammed the petal, making the van go at a speed of 90 miles an hour.

Kti was fiddling with a new weapon design, it would allow them to blast through several doors at a time at Area 51. Crey had told them about his trips to Area 51, although he had to stop a while ago as they did not have enough resources to teleport there. The crew was the last one that was at Earth. Most everyone had left by then. They only had one mission left, to kill William Barnes, who tortured Crey and Eak’s father.

They were almost there, and soon enough they swerved the van off the road. Surprisingly the police had not shown up, and the road was clear for yet another strange reason. There was a large fence, unguarded, ahead of them. The van plowed through the fence, racing through the immense expanse that was Area 51’s plains. Up ahead they saw the entrance, with also no guards. The driver crashed the van into the side of the entrance, and everyone attempted to jump out and land. Attempted being the key word there. They all fell on top another, and it took them a while to get upright. Once up, Kti blasted the door down, and everyone entered the teleporter. They were teleported several feet underground into the heart of the base.

They found themselves in an empty room, several feet high by who knows how many wide. All around them were doors that lead to other places in the facility. Above them were tubes that lead throughout the facility, large enough for the crawlers to come and go as they pleased. Kti aimed the weapon at the door that lead to William Barnes's wing and fired. The weapon backfired, and began to fizz, the electricity began to spark and soon enough it began to become uncertain. The weapon bounced all over the place, battering up the area and eventually exploded.

The crew began to panic as footsteps were heard, it meant the guards were coming. But to their surprise, there was not a single guard to be found. A scientist entered, but a tongue grabbed him, pulling him back into the door he had come out of. There was a loud scream, and out emerged not only the scientist, but a large lizard. Menace looked at the crew of aliens, and then leapt up onto one of the pipes. He looked back, just to make sure the man was safe, and then continued to walk through the pipes meant for the crawlers.

“Who are you people?” Asked the scientist, unsure of what had just happened. “We’re visitors . . .” Said Igg after a long pause. “Well you have to get out; this entire facility is being destroyed. We have to head to the teleportation chamber, which shouldn’t be far from here.” He said, and began to leave, but noted that they were not doing so. “Come on! Don’t be an idiot!” He said. “We have something to do here.” Yual said, and began to go down the way that would lead them to William Barnes. “Oh no. Are you one of those scrappers?” He said, and began to back away, then ran. Igg gave chase to him, knowing that if he alerted the rest of them they would be sure to get caught. He pinned the man down on the hallway floor, and then slung him back into the main room.

“You will not tell anyone.” Yual told him,”We cannot afford for you to do so.” “So are you going to kill me?” He asked, and began to hyperventilate. “No, even worse.” Said Yual, and attached a bungee cord to the ceiling. He then tied the man to the bungee cord and let go, causing him to go up and down rapidly. They then proceeded to head down the hallway, unaware that above them at the surface, many miles over them a giant tsunami was heading their way. It had swept up everything, including the police that had given them chase.