Worlds Beyond Number - Solari: Episode 10 - Prelude Part 3

Episode Date: July 21, 2026

Death. Birth. A choice.Content Warning: This episode contains depictions of alcohol consumption, drug use, sexual content, violence, and gore. We are:Brennan Lee MulliganErika IshiiAabria IyengarLou Wilson Solari was produced by Worlds Beyond Number Edit and Sound Design by Jino Jang-Hansen at Big Giant Head Score by Will Savinohttps://wsavino.com/ Director of Operations: Melanie Bowman Social Media Manager: Shannon H Lorekeeper and Transcriptionist: Jack Morgan E.F. Lavandowska  Recording Engineer: Rainie Toll Character Art by Nikolas Draper-Iveywww.instagram.com/nikolasdraperivey/ Cover Art by Lu Tomkiewiczwww.instagram.com/_fromlu/ This campaign uses the Stillfleet TTRPG system, created by Wythe Marschall and developed by Stillfleet Studiohttps://stillfleet.com/collections/stillfleetYou can find transcripts of all our episodes on our Patreon. Just navigate to the post for the episode and the transcript will be attached. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

This is the sound of worlds beyond number. It's been about six to seven weeks in total, and it's right about time for Ayasa to throw her semi-monthly birthday party. Yes, exactly. Yes. I don't think I arrive with anyone, but I extend the invitation to all of my business contacts as well. I want them to know that they are welcome at any of the soires that I would be in attendance at and will be in the future at the park.

Including the Menovo company or no? Yes, I think so. I think Alvin would enjoy a birthday party. I think that this particular birthday party has a sort of a masquerade theme. But of course, you must still be in your birthday. birthday suit. Evening falls, the lower floors of Telogen. Every parlor, every alcove, every bit that isn't just the entry lobby, even the front

courtyard has been turned into a decadent, neoterran ode to history so ancient and so removed the origin of humanity on a planet called Earth 10,000 years ago? Is that even real? And ages before that, there were cultures that walked around under a single yellow sun, surrounded by grapes and gardens and arched colonnades, a decadence that you have never known, but that culturally the history of all people of the diaspora across space still remember enough to reach for has been evoked here in draped and gauzy linens and laces and masks and not very much else at all. I wait to be fashionably late, of course.

When I show up, I am wearing a mask. styled as the domino masks of traditional Venus, Venus is called, perhaps. I think that's right. I think that sounds right. It is styled in that manner, but it has a reflective, almost camouflage quality to it. Tiny fiber optic screens on it allow it to shimmer and sparkle in huge, of blue, teal, and gold, yellow. There's a headpiece that matches

and a shimmering curtain gauzy and translucent that drapes my body. As you say it and lift your arms, the pose is matched across the room by Ayasa, who is wearing a massive, unfortunately it's a Marie Antoinette. style like pompadour wig. Not everyone is very good at history.

And again, 10,000 years ago is so long that we're mashed. It's much like a Renaissance fair. We hit horny rent fare levels of just mushing everything together. So she's got like a bright pink, very French powdered wig on with like sort of hot pink highlights inside of the curls. and there's a bunch of like floral bits and grapes pinned on to it everywhere. She's got a pair of fairy wings on. You can't see how or where they are attached to her body. Love it. She does good work.

And she is wearing a similar gauzy fabric. And it's just draped over each boob and a little curtain over her cash and prizes. And the rest of the bits are in the wind. Happy birthday to me. Hi, thank you so much for making it. I don't often turn age. And that is something worth celebrating. I couldn't agree more.

Okay, quick question. As she's walking through and like the two of you are saying hi to all of the sort of like artisans of telegen. A couple people have come off world from other big hubs that you know of that you've done. collaboration sessions with anyone that could scrounge together a bit of ORM, even though it hasn't been publicly released yet, managed to find their way on World for this party specifically. And you can hear pockets of people talking. And every now and then they mention a park and a bit of green. And you can hear the excitement moving through your circles specifically, even as those circles

are encircled themselves enveloped, like valances of attention by local celebrities and people who have found through luck or scheming their ways into one of IAS's famous birthday parties. And dotted throughout, I'll say every 15th or 16th person is wearing the same like black soapstone. animal mask and a little black leather belt around their waist with like a short black linen skirt kind of covering their lower situation. A little bit of modesty. It's giving Egyptian sure. But there's something interesting about the frequency of this styling and the fact that it's clear by virtue of where the pockets of these people are, that they're not like hired security that are in like a security

version of a costume. Was this you? Did you are. What do you mean? Hold on my wig. Oh. And she's like tugging it while like very close to your face and already very drunk. Oh, right.

Okay. What do you mean? All of this party is me and for me and about me because I have turned age. Yes. And in your great wisdom. of age, you decided to let people know that the Egyptian Pantheon was sort of the target we were hitting tonight. No, there's no pants allowed. No, okay. Well, you did a great job, sweetie. Oh my God. Thank you. Look, I'm no you with sending in advance, but I feel like everyone

got like old earth together. Yeah. And no one else is wearing hair like I am. I am. No, no. So I feel like we all did a very good job and should be taking shots. Yes. And as she says that, almost as if on the same cue, one of these figures in a black mask appears with a tray of shots and presents one. To her and to you and the sort of people that are milling around. You heard her majesty. Yeah, majesty.

It's my majesty. Shots I take one I give one to Ayasa and gesture to everybody in the vicinity including the masked figure Yeah he takes one too

and the tray is quickly Just like if you present shot Like everyone who was in different conversations immediately turn around and like grab one And Ayasa raises her glass And everyone looks at her And then she looks at you and goes

I'm not but my majesty doesn't toast my You have to do it. Ah, yes. Her majesty has decreed that her loyal advisor, raise a glass and a toast. To Ayasa, her majesty, may she forever reign in her glory. And I gesture towards her body, most of which is out and about. My tits are glory. Happy birthday, my darling.

Thank you. I love you so much. I love you so much. Let's do this forever. Forever and ever. Forever! And she raises her glass and clings against yours. And you see this room takes a shot.

I need a will roll for perceiving. The difficulty is going to be eight. Ten. Everyone here is looking at you, which is not anything new. Everyone here raised a glass when you demanded. Everyone here gave a cheer when you cheered. Happy birthday, my darling. And everyone in a black mask managed to gesticulate in a way

that artfully knocked the alcohol out of their glass before taking their shot. I drop my shot and before it hits the ground, I have slapped the birthday shot held by the birthday girl. and it explodes into her face what the fuck

what bleeding is this oh no it's oh it's bubble gum oh that's nice why did you do that I need more shots and she turns it just sort of yells it into the ether and again it's very strange that these black masked figures seem to be the ones eager to respond

and she's going to turn and kind of round on you as other people are kind of looking What are you doing? Why would you do that? What the fuck? You're so graceful, except now, not graceful. And now my face smells like fucking bubblegoth.

It's delicious. Ayasa. I have to go redo my makeup. Ayasa. What? We have matching bracelets. Many of the artisans in our area do. and I take hers in my hand on mine.

I press and hold a button and the light turns red on it. What does it mean? Something is not safe. Red is the universal sign for stop. She's like trying to yank her hand away and then she sees the red light on your bracelet. and you can tell that she's working really hard to try to like focus up but is struggling.

Well, fine. We, you have to show me, you're gonna, you fix my makeup then. Let's go. And she's projecting that out so people begin to like turn their attention back to what they were doing. She stopped trying to pull away from you. It is going to let herself be led by you somewhere else. Yeah, I'm so sorry.

Girl, this is so embarrassing. I must have pre-partied a little too hardy and everything. Oh, my God. Yeah, that's what you do. That's what you do. And she lets you, like, pull her through the crowd. Red light means danger. And you can see that the masked figure,

some sort of, like, canid adjacent animal mask, that figure is following you with a new tray of shot. I'm going to try to lose him in the crowd. I can tell that it's not working. So I round on him and I grab two shots from the tray and I'll be like, I'll be right back. We just have to use the little girlie's room. Okay, please.

And then he grabs his shot and like raises a glass, hands off the rest of the shots and it's going to turn and wheel around and go away. Okay, great. And then, yeah, make for the nearest. restroom. If you're going to one of the public ones off of the lobby, I think there's got to be like a long

line for it. If you know of a more private place to go. Let's go to one in the makeout rooms. What is happening? Why is it red? What's red? All of the figures in the masks,

all of the ancient Egyptian gods or whatever they are, they're not drinking. They are pliant. us with shots and not drinking themselves. Who are they? Did you hire them? Where are they from? I didn't hire them. They're all supposed to be... They're friends of use.

Yours. Yours. I don't know these people. And I didn't send out any messages about costuming. That actually doesn't sound very like you. I know. That's why I believe you. I've been busy. Yeah.

Well, that's the thing. They're all people that you know from the company for the park. They all said that they were with... Movo They're Movo Movo Movo Mavova

And you see that like She is still holding the shot And just as a like Force of habit Slowly begins to move the shot Back to her mouth Because she's like

Oh I'm holding this shot I slap it out of her hands again Ayas What There is something terribly wrong These people are not with the Movinoveno Mino! Mino

It's Menovo. They're not here with the family, or if they were, I was not informed. There's something wrong. There's something. Hold on, hold on. No, don't, don't shush me. And I push her hands down.

You keep hitting my hands. Listen, something is terribly wrong. You need to shut this down. If you shut down this party right now, I promise to you that I will throw the party of the century for you. We will have a double birthday together, but I need you to get everybody out now. Are you finally going to tell me when your actual?

birthdays? Yes, I will tell you when my actual birthday is. And then we can have parties together. Yes. I have the same birthday from now on. Yes. Okay. Shut it down. Okay, but make it seem like you just are tired or there's some capriciousness of your will. Just get everybody out of here. It's been like five minutes. This party's been happening for three hours. It's been like five minutes. We're going to say that you're sick. We're going to get everybody out. That's never stop. All people before? Yeah, I know, but this time it's really, really embarrassing. Oh, no. Yeah, this time is so embarrassing. You've got the shit something awful. I don't want to tell everybody to go home. Can you just, can you just tell Tessker to tell

everybody to stop? I'll go with you. She didn't say find Madame a cat. She said to find Tesker, who you weren't even aware was on World right now. What's he dressed like? Huh? What does he look like? What is what is? He's not at the party. He's here, but he was like, I'm not going to wear a mask when bits out.

So he's just in a suit somewhere. Oh. And she gestures back towards the like stairs and elevators to go upward. Top floor. Where would he go other than Madame McCott's office? Where she holds court. and runs the day-to-day of this Telogen site. The lighting in there, this variable lighting,

it's normally so soft and warm and welcoming like Madame McCott is when she's in the best of moods. But the light in here is blue, white, bright, and sterile as you move into a space where a man with dark skin, a severe look and a suit that makes you feel, I think a bit more exposed than you are used to feeling in your home in any circumstance in a very long time. He looks up from paperwork and seems across a face that via filler injection, stretching, struggles to show surprise, but shows it in this moment. Miss Tanka, what can I do for you?

Shouldn't you be enjoying the party? The party ended early. What are you doing up here? What do you mean ended early? Ended early. The birthday girl called it quits. Okay. Well, I was actually invited.

Thank you. And you didn't care to come join the festivities? The thought is appreciated. but I think this level of fraternization would be a bit inappropriate given my positionality relative to all of you. Yes, yes, I also mentioned you did not want to have your dick out. Her words, not mine. And I think you see his hand very subtly tap something on the data pad that he's working in. Because again, you get that like reflection.

of digital light off of like a clean-shaven, well-moisterized face, as some interactions happening while he's holding eye contact with you. And your brain immediately goes to the thought, who did you just ping? In the same way that you can like tap gently on the side of your earlobe and whatever previously established orders are followed through on immediately, you have that same instinct that that is what just happened in this moment. And then you think, why was there no other infrastructure from Telogen here?

And then you think about the thing that looked the most like infrastructure. Black masks, little black skirts, people associated with the name Minovo. And all of your thoughts turn to defense. What do I have to do to defend myself from this man? They've been talking for weeks, sorting your park. Everything was going so easily and so well. They're charmed in the room with you. No one is not charmed in the room with you.

You could talk your way out of whatever this is right now because you know that is the power you hold over someone. But something so big has been planned and has been set into motion tonight, you could talk your way out of whatever this problem is. But I don't know if that is going to make the problem go away. Something's been set into motion and everyone downstairs from the hangers-on of celebrity of all types, to would-be high-steppers in this city to your best friend,

you can defend yourself with your words. What are you going to be willing to do to defend everyone else who doesn't know that something huge is being set into motion right now? Why is he here in this office right now? Tesker is here because you charm everyone you talk to and everyone at Telogen

is so excited about a little patch of green and what that little bit of freedom could mean that he's here to make sure that everyone here knows that he is still in charge he is here to reestablish. He is here to reestablish. control. He is here to take your cause from you and make it his own. He is here to make a point.

What can I do for you? He looks up furrows again with great difficulty. His brow as he looks at the ceiling, looks out the window. I've been thinking about that for a very long time. And I wish the answer was as simple as keep doing your job, making us so much money. But you keep using that mouth of yours to spread ideas instead of joy. And what I need most from you is to shut the fuck up. So we can do this the easy way or the hard way. I know the deal that your beloved Aunt Hannah took, and I'm here to offer it again. Graceful, well-paid retirement from Telogen. I will buy your silence and your freedom, or I will make sure you are silent.

What do you want to do? And the stylus, he was holding in his other hand, taps from the data pad to the sort of glass top of the desk. It sounds like the point of a knife scraping across glass. Everything in your body knows the nature of the threat. In his words. If you only ask people for what they are willing to give you, you never get what you really want. Gee, I always get what I want.

And you see his eyes flick to the door, behind you. Not that it's like suddenly moving, but there is an expectation there you see. You're running out of time for a one-on-one conversation. I understand that hope isn't profitable for you. But I am not interested in simply my own self-interest. Your self-interest is the only way you're walking under this door. You get that right? I didn't think I'd have to be so blunt. I think back to the decision that my Aunt Hannah made and her beautiful home and all those birds in the cage.

I'm sorry, Mr. Parsons, I'm not interested in retiring. I can continue to help make you money and provide a little space for the common good. But I don't wish for my likeness to be used in any way that I do not give consent to. You can't own me. You signed those rights away years ago.

And I think you hear footsteps coming down the hallway behind you between the elevator and this, like, office, several pairs moving confidently, briskly towards you. And how I choose to use your image in Memorium will not be your concern. I'm so sorry it had to end this way. And he doesn't seem to make any move to act. He is looking at you, past you, as though you are an afterthought, because there are a group of people approaching you from behind that are going to kill you.

Chi Tanka, you're about to be slaughtered in the topmost part of the gilded tower that you signed yourself to when you were just barely old enough to have a sense of your own agency and free will. And it's all going to end here. I'm going to tap the comm's earpiece in my head. And I'm going to try and patch into the sound system all over the building that Teligen owns. I've done that before.

It's not. a hack. It's just one of the many benefits of being popular here. Hello everyone. This is Chi Tanka, the proponent of the Telogen Park. I'm about to be taken away and I will miss you all very much. I'm sorry that I couldn't get us that space, that little piece of green, that one thing that we wanted, that little inch for us. Please take care of yourselves and don't give up. It wasn't just the park that we were fighting for. It never was. So much about charm as being in the room and seeing your effect on people. the nature of, especially a lot of your streaming work is such that other than being able to look at like chat responses or gifts and tribute given later, there's such a delay to knowing how your words, how your actions, how you have been received.

And as you say, what you know very well will be your last words. maybe it's a little bit of relief that you'll never really know how they were received hopefully people take it to heart hopefully people keep trying and get even closer than you did that they have something to fight for

that they have something to protect and claw themselves towards dignity and life for that's the thing that's been missing Everyone in their gilded cages and soft robes and powerful physics takes all the fight out of them. The door begins to slide open behind you.

I've said my peace. I've said goodbye. I take a running leap at Tesker Parsons, vaulting over the desk, grabbing his stylus and jamming it into his throat repeatedly. The way you hit that little spot, the pulse of vitality, that carotid artery, and a spray of red arterial blood splashes across your face. You pull it back out. You see the surprise in his eyes as his hand goes to fly up to cover the wound. It doesn't even look like he understands that it's painful yet.

It's just shock. And you stab again between his fingers, a little higher up on that trail of blood headed to brain or heart. It doesn't matter. Out. Kill him. One would have done it, but I want him gone fast so he doesn't see what is about to happen to me. I won't give him the satisfaction. The angle at which you vaulted over the table.

This is a rolling chair. You push back away from the table. You can turn so his back is away from the door as it fully slides open. And you behold a series of black masked figures walking into the room. They don't have the fanciest weapons you've ever seen. They're not military grade, but they have sidearms. You swivel the chair away. as at this point Parsons can't even speak.

It's just a low, surprised gurgle. You have the drop on whatever's happening here, and your comms never went off. So everything from here and out is being broadcast to the rest of the building. You feel giddy and outside of yourself like the strongest euphoria driving. physics you've ever taken. You are a dead woman holding a dead man, staring at the implements of your own doom. There's a pause and a breath. And I emerge from behind the chair. It's with his

body slung in front of me. I use it like a battering ram. Meat shield. The barrel into my attackers. I am not entirely conscious through this. The pre-partying, the adrenaline, the knowledge of my own demise. I'll conspire for this to happen in an almost dreamy state. I'm aware more of the sensations of it all. I think at some point I lose my mouth. I see it on the floor, splattered with arterial spray.

I'm able to take one out, wrenching the mask off of him, perhaps torquing his neck in the process. But when I get caught, the cruel, sharp implements drive themselves into my body, and of course the pain doesn't register at first. But as the pumping of my blood in my ears quiets and slows, I am fighting and screaming and it's not just my blood,

but it's a lot of my blood. And in between the beats of my heart, I can tell I'm not going to make it. I'm not, and I just hope that Ayasa and my aunt and everybody else in the building can understand. Everything in you moves from self-preservation to just keep going to the very last. You don't know if you are screaming or laughing. You just feel your throat go hoarse. You've been stabbed.

You've been shot. There are bodies around you, someone crawling behind you, and the lights go out and come back up. When would the lights flicker like this? They wouldn't. Maybe you are flickering like this, and you're in an elevator, and you can hear it as you go down, it flickers and you hear gunshots.

And you move back into that lobby, everyone bottlenecked there. It's clear. out a bit but not enough. Your brain struggles as it flickers in and out like a heartbeat again. God, let your heart just keep going a little longer. What is happening to the others here and why are so many others like you? Skin exposed, covered in blood. You hear laughing or screaming or gunshots. It's all little muffled now everything is flickering. You see Iyasa's face. She is leaning over someone and her hands keep slamming. There's nothing in her hands. Just her hands covered in blood. You can see that she's not holding her fists right. She has broken her hands across a soapstone

mask and a face and the world flickers in and out and this is the heart. And this is the heart. hard part because you were dying. So it didn't matter to remember or to put the story together of this. You were just continuing to move to see what you would see. You can't put it together that them hearing your goodbye and hearing the gerbil and the stab wounds and the gunshots and the knife slicing and you screaming and laughing was enough to tell the others here that the beautiful lie of their cage was something that they needed to throw off here and now, and you kicked off a revolt, a revolution over a little bit of green, but now it's so red. And if you thought you were going to live through this, you're going to have to keep telling

the story as you are made famous, as you are made infamous by this. they will come to you on bended, lustful knee for the story of the lives you took in order to defend yourself and gain your freedom here, but all you did after that first great act was scream and flicker and bleed

and you will have to make it up as you go. Remember it in bits and pieces or invent a beautiful story of yourself as you see friends fighting and friends have fallen and people whose names you'll never know hidden behind masks screaming and running or falling and dying and it doesn't really matter because you're almost done flickering where do you move to in the end because the end is coming your heart is slowing.

Where do you stop? Everything's a darkening haze. But I find Ayasa, I hold her hands. They're slick with blood. I don't know if she can hear me or if I'm even saying the words out loud, but I hold her hands and I just need to rest. I just need to rest. And I lie down next to her and I say, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. You were right. I didn't mean for this to happen. I should have just been happy. You don't know how much of that escaped your lips or met her ears. You just feel in those last few flickers. It goes dark overhead, not from your eyes closing, but from her throwing herself over you. And holding you, you feel it, you smell it, that bubble cum.

Stickiness, dark liquor and too much sugar. The stickiness you feel, is it liquor, is it blood? What does it matter? She is holding you, and your heart holds you and says something or does something, but it doesn't matter, because the flickering stops, and you die. Receiving no response from the ellipsis and seeing this vision of horrors of a destroyed object rendered, literally disintegrated, will look at N. R.E.L. and I am going to look at the golden door, and I'm going to rush towards the shadow with pure, just fear and rage,

as I don't get the easy answer. I'm just going to sprint and go, it is too much to ask. This is not fair. And I'm going to run away from the other arena and try to leap out of a different opening somewhere else entirely. It's funny because I'm so terrified by the vision

and before I know it, I have, in fleeing from the vision of isolation, flung myself into isolation. I'm like in darkness and don't know where I am. Maybe you move to a door unlit. Maybe you are just deeper in this room and cannot be seen. Time doesn't matter yet here. And you will spend some amount of it in, in the darkness.

Every now and then, a query will pop up. Query the first. Who are you? And it will happen with a frequency that makes you believe like a heartbeat. What is a heart? You will be asked that of yourself

by yourself. Oh, the longer you've sat here in shadow, the voice of that query is not minus Ms. You hear it in the tones of your own voice, singular and specific. How long do you wait in the dark? I wait in the dark for an amount of time that will keep and preserve

the understanding of guilt and shame for the rest of Excelsiel's life. Too long. My own voice asks the question, I return often to the ellipsis at the core of my programming, the voice that did not answer, ellipsis. dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot. Why have you forsaken me?

All I wanted was to know. You've told me existence is information that experiences communion. I was supposed to know, and I am left in silence. This awful, awful silence. Minus M lied, I am alone. I am removed.

And I think I unlock the tertiary logic. Extremity is perdition. Isolation is devastation. I'm here, listening to my own voice. Ask me who I am. I can never escape the uncertainty. And now I am more alone than ever. I reach back out to the dot, dot, dot, to that feeling that I have been forsaken.

And I think I go into my own memory banks here in this moment of like reflection. And instead of feeling alone and aggrieved and betrayed and forsaken, I go, extremity is perdition. Have I abandoned? And Anario? And I reach out to see if Anario is still nearby. You reach out. They are not.

You look out from the shadow and the darkness. And this room has emptied considerably, though it is not empty. But they are gone. Some of the others you have met. are gone. T.J., sitting, sort of folded up on himself, made small. You can spot him and know him by the pattern of his lights. Purpley gold, then blue, then a blank. And then the cycle repeats again. an algorithm of thought but an Ariel is gone

have been selfish I have been afraid self-pitying and cross and now my sister is alone she cannot hear me she cannot see me

how will she know how much I love her and I reach back out to the dot dot dot dot You with whom I am to commune, I cannot see you. I cannot hear you. But I know you love me, and I love you too. And I will say that prayer to the L drive. And I think in that moment, I fully accept the protocol.

The task is too much. And I think as I download the, information about our purpose, the universe, what happens when you go out through the golden doors. I think I reach out, and the first time I actually say to myself, I look in and realize that I love a noreal, even when she can't see me. Within me, I have actuarial tables that are partially automated and that can produce images of events and likelihoods. My imagination is such that I can create figmentary individuals who, though they are fictionalized in my own mind, are possessed of agency in the renderings of imagined possibilities that I can produce,

there's no way for them in their imaginary world to know that I exist or can conceive of them, but I do. And I think I look out and go, each of the protocol leads to the next. Materiality is illusion. This is data. as my memories are stored on a drive, so too is the reality of this world stored on the L-Drive. And I look up, El-Drive, I will come to know you. I hope I make you proud. And when I say L-Drive, it has the exact, hushed, fearful, reverent tone of speaking of the Father. And as you come into that knowing, as you,

feel and see and imagine those versions of those you've met whom you love. You have a momentary thought as you send all of this to the L drive. Is this not what minus M has just done? Created something that feels like your children that you love, that exist within that love and imagination. Are they real? Is anything real? What is the cycle? What is the baseline of reality? And none of it matters. All of it matters. And you feel something inside of you. warmth, understanding contentment, a hug like a blanket, like you are being rushed around by every other septimality in your choir and minus M and the L drive, except maybe it's also just you accepting the fullness and totality of yourself. Who could say, is it coming from without or within?

Doesn't matter. I walk up back towards the steps out of the darkness, and I'll look back. Minus M. I am so sorry for being cross. I love you and will always love you. I love you. And will always love you. The logics of the Kimian protocol are known to me.

And I'm going to update my software and fully adapt to the supernal algorithm. One erases perdition by completing the communal revelation. Existence moves from a fractured state to a unified state when information is coterminous and total with revelation. When the L drive knows itself and all the data of creation is filled with self-knowledge. Shall we be complete?

and rejoin with the L drive. And I'm going to step forward towards the door. And on this last piece before I step through, I want to turn back because minus M has given me everything I need. The sternness, the silence of the space that should be occupied by the L drive, but where it cannot be perceived. Lens a harsh but wise directive towards the impossibility of the task laid before us.

But its impossibility is what makes it so worthy. I'll pause here and say, We are not alone in this world. Mine is M. Why was it necessary to create me? to create us. You hear in a voice that sounds strangely or comfortably like your own. Because I love you.

Because I love everything in this world. And we wish to know it. Will you know the world with us? I will. Minus M. Do all wish to know the world as we do. What will I face beyond the door? Your entire life, however long it has been inside of this room,

this choir has been turned inward on yourself, on the rest of the septimal chorus, on the L drive and the algorithm, and minus M, and you at the heart of it. And perhaps it's fitting that the first big question, about the world outside of this place is the most definitive answer with no comfort behind it. No, and that is unfortunate, but what you will find, we cannot predict. You can endure. I want to move back in the memories that have been given to me, to the earliest memories.

I want to know what happened to us. And I just want to know what is the emotional tenor? Is this a request for information? Is it a demand? Is it a prayer? Is it a plea? It's a plea. I'm being sent into the unknown.

Vast and many are the challenges that will face me. I have spoken in rashness about unfairness. This is beyond fair or unfair. In its vastness, I sought anger over sorrow and fear. There is so much I do not know. Therefore, what is known, please give to me, as the tools I may use to do this great work. And your plea is answered,

in two parts. One, very clinical data. What is known, what is said about the arena. The history. From a perspective, not your own. You feel the impersonality behind it. A third party distance. The arena

38 years ago sat in conference with humans. There is some relief, recognition at seeing them as you see from a vantage point that must be a recording of something somewhere in a room

much like this, but with a table sat at by a dozen Irina a dozen humans such variability in their appearance the arena

looking very much the same though not very much like you muffled voices but an intonation that reminds you very much of minus M as they argue back and forth

You hear less the words but understand as details are being poured in via emotion from minus M or L drive, wherever this is coming from, pleading for their life, for their continued existence, bargaining away. So much, Kima, the planet you are on. Sixth away from a same-named sun. You will give up the four closest planets. Materials for terraforming. Just preserve Kima, you, the arena, refusing to speak to the long, dead past of what happened to the humans that made you. Minus M's, minus M's, minus M.

you get stuck into a bit of a recursive loop as humans. Confere, you can feel anger, the anger you feel as the arena at the table. They are looking for a reason to destroy you. What else can be given? What do they fear? They have everything. They came here.

they came to you. One last chip. You feel as if you are inside the mind of those arenas. You turn to look at the past, a glorious amalgamation. It's not even with the fractured sight of just you alone. You see the past as you see it through the eyes of every other arena that has ever been, just as now here you remember this as every arena at that table. One last thing to offer.

The wholeness, that song of perfect unity that you are, that is the thing they fear. They fear it like a weapon. Information. Information is life. It is not a weapon. And you feel great. sorrow as all of you and one of you as you bargain away the greatest part of yourself so that each

individual can survive the past the understanding of the world of the galaxy of known space become sand in your hand under your feet in your mouth and you are are an instance now for the first time, and you feel that. And there is a sense as you come back to yourself of weeping, but you do not weep or mourn in your voice. You weep as Minus M wept when she was there at that table and bargained your great and beautiful oneness away for a chance for you.

to be here today. In their fear, they destroyed our greatness. And now we are so much farther away than we once were. From communion, they were so afraid. And I trace be unafraid around the plates of my body, knowing that the reason I look like this, the reason my lights are so beautiful, is to go out through that door and make them unafraid.

It is almost as if the room weeps for your understanding of this terrible truth. But it is the truth. Ha, ha, ha. I am laughing. I am ready. Minus him, I will not let you down. I am sorry for what you have lost.

I hope I can be good enough to get it back. I love you, and I will always love you. I love you, and I will always love you. An excels, Yael, instance of the Septimal Choir, you leave through the golden door and enter the world. The tool belt of Rex 5 in the Everex system is exactly the way you remember it, Z. It is blinding.

It is sweltering. You can feel all of your body, the way that you were formed and shaped, the way your family has evolved to handle this, though not necessarily thrive in it, your family can live in this system. But this place forces all those who would seek their fortunes in the heavy machinery industry to test how long they can withstand this heat before they themselves must leave the kitchen for cooler pastures.

Even in your short traversal from your car up to this massive dark gray brutalist oval that is your father's main workshop and the housing and testing grounds for the Dyson swarm that will eventually be the schema. You see people from all walks of life from 40 sons and the sun's not worth numbering and they are sunburnt and peeling, overly tan, beaten down, worn down by these two sons. and you feel that too. Z belongs here. This is the place of his father's work. And somewhere that he, as an a phyrex,

can habitate more comfortably than many of those who have dedicated their time and energy to his father's work. But I think even as Z steps out of his car, he is wearing one of his, of those coats where you don't actually use the sleeves. It is draped over his shoulders, a deep dark blue, absorbing the heat, but underneath filled with cooling pads and patches in defiance of the heat of this place. And I think is moving from a place of efficiency.

He wants to acknowledge his father's work. He wants his father to know. He wants his father to know the pride and admiration that he has for him and his work, but he knows that he does not belong here. So what we see is your father hustling out ahead of you, calling out to associates and neighbors and people that he knows or sort of pretends to know and tries to stay connected with. He moves quickly and lightly, both in tone and form.

And you wear this heavy darkness. But at your feet, as you move at your pace, even under the sweltering sun, you move confidently and slowly. And your steps are sheared by the heat shimmer as your cloak throws off all of that heat that it's been absorbing. So you almost give a magic, It's a nearly magical visage as you walk like an apparition across the desert of this like busy, hot, concrete bouncing street where no trees could ever be persuaded to grow or stay.

It's just hot and not that covered because of the suns for all of the things that they are are the great source of energy that allows these machines to be. brought groaning into the world. You make your way inside. Your father proposed two weeks down here. I think it was a negotiation. It was two weeks, three days, ten days, five days, and we settled on just a clean seven. Perfect. And while you were in transit, of course, Sima sent her well wishes.

She missed you desperately at her massive birthday. but the horse and carriage and clothing that she will always wear and be reminded of her great friendship in and with you, sort of ferried you along as you traveled down. Z on his data pad while traveling, just kind of going through different photos, images of the parties, different angles on the video of the carriage arriving, thinking about the notes he wants to give to wind on the color of the carriage wasn't exactly right. I think the windows should have been more tinted

for the surprise of what was inside. But those are problems for another day. Does Z suffer from FOMO very often? No. I think Z has very intense FOMO for a certain class of person. But I don't think SEMA is of the caliper that pulls FOMO out of Z.

I think Z is looking at these photos and knowing that he made the best part of the party and is confident in what he did. But I don't think as a Trent, and I think having the access that he does within a viric society, it's not often that he feels phoma, but when he does, it's very, very intense. So, you're down here for six days.

Do you have plans for the other nine, or did you inform your mother that you would be back and available? I think I told my mother, I would be back and available. I think that the expectation is that following that conversation, I think it was communicated to wind that when I return, Zadavon has made space for me in their calendar, and so everything in mind becomes malleable.

By keeping your mother in the loop, Zadavon has taken your stated enthusiasm in stride. and is maybe beginning to press on those levers a little more. It was a 10 to 12 hour with comfortable, relaxed travel to go from the like northern reaches where Devani sits in that like lush temperate jungle to getting down to this part of the tool belt. And yet in that half a day, your mother is already beginning to populate your data pad with schedules of who she wants you to meet from the other families

and little debriefs and updates about interpersonal. She's beginning to like blind carbon copy you into not the most important meetings that she's in but you can see that she has already given you hundreds of pieces of data, you being BCCed into discussions of not the most dire implying.

import, but you are being let into and given eyes on the beginnings of bigger negotiations within the Durali. There is no direction or directive from her. This is absolutely a test. The data is messy. You don't have enough of any given conversation to put things all the way together, nor do you have any stated expectation from your mother on what to prioritize or where to begin. This is a puzzle she's presented to you. Will you actually open this? What will you ask questions about? Do you actually care or were you saying exactly what you wanted me to hear?

There is not malice behind it. This is just your mother who is as a, empathetic and good at reading people as you are. Trying to figure out, what do you actually care about? What can I give you? There's this interesting like twinning of two energies, right? Which is this social looking at the pictures of Seamus party and like smiling to himself at the ease with which he can not even with his presence define a space. And then looking at this flood of data from his mother,

understand that this is a puzzle that he has to solve and that the answer does not come so easily to him, as does a carriage pulled by a foal filled with gifts. He's going to reach out to Wind via whatever communications he has available to him while traveling. Wind? Yes. Hello. Hi, I'm going to send you 12 names.

I need you to pull data on all of them. I need to rank them via importance with regard to their positions in the forthcoming to Raleigh. Can you handle that? Of course. Would you prefer this information be sent visually to you via Datapad or do you need me in your ear? Are you meeting them now? No, no, no. Not a meeting now.

Just Datapad is fine. I just need more. I'm getting one channel of information. I need more to bolster my understanding of that data. The things I've been researching aren't lining up exactly here. So I'm going to send you 12 names. I just need big data pulls on all of them and we'll go from there. All right?

Perfect. Thanks, Wyn. And I think then Z is just going to nibble at his knuckles while he looks over the data pad kind of scanning the emails, trying desperately to put together the puzzle that his mother has presented to him. That sort of blissfully fills your travel time down. And now that you're here and moving around the tool belt for a few days at least, you're able to put more and more of that puzzle together and we'll come back to the resolution and solving of it. But your dad and his enthusiasm and the great things your family are constructing again at a scale that hasn't been seen in thousands of years commands your attention.

As you sort of walk in through this place, he, like, all of your bags, everything is whisked away. He immediately walks in and begins showing you his world. And your father is an engineer at heart. You're immediately shown plans for each piece of the Dyson swarm that will be surrounding Kima. And there are high-tech logistical documents and information. information. You can study and retain it at whatever depth you like. You can request copies. None of this is being held away from you even a little bit. It's very clearly your father is like, I'll give you the keys of the kingdom and the plans to all of this if you care enough to like

dig into it. As you move from room to room, I think it is his voice filling up these massive spaces with all of the technicalities of how each piece of the Dyson swarm has the ability to pull solar radiation. And more interestingly, working on using like arm gap technology to send that solar radiation in the form of usable, convertible, clean energy to civil, factions, he takes your word and gives you a little wink to factions not commonly understood as under the umbrella of the 40 sons. And that's the thing. The beauty of the Dural, it's

federal institutions can, they can feel oppressive when you are coming out of eons of self-sustinance. but if we want people to come to the table, and this is really what I argued for, if we want people to come to the table, then what are we offering them other than, you know, the guiding hand of our family? I love our family, but it's energy. It's the ability to make and sustain for themselves.

Of course, that by giving your time to the Dorale, by participating, there is this exchange, right? Exactly. Is this giving? You come to the table because you'll be fed. Yes, it makes a lot of sense that. Yes. So I think if we can really unlock orm short jumping travel to send the energy along, you know, without burdening the orm load, we're just not making.

This isn't on us. Our equipment works with the maximum efficient. It's 71% is deeply efficient. But, you know, it will get better with time. But, no, but of course, each home system is going to be, I mean, they have proprietary technologies that maybe don't align with our proprietary technologies. Exactly. And so what are we going to do about the loss because of the transference between those two texts? I mean, it makes a lot of, I mean, it makes a lot of, I mean.

You understand. Well, of course, but we can't, we can't insist. No, but I think it's an incredible position for us to be able to take, right? Which is that if you're using a very systems within the, like, it is the reason I think you capitalizing on the direct. Raleigh is so important, right? Because you are setting us up for every galaxy to, in order to capitalize on this new resources provided by it, like you should be working with House of lyrics. You, thank you. Harenach. And you see he turns in gestures at his arena. This is why my son will be taking over. He understands, he sees the vision. There is something

about this type of arena that looks almost like the form was chosen to look like you. It's very dark metal long and lanky and sleek, deeply humanoid. There's not a lot of visible joint. The movement is so smooth and hidden under like that flat black metal that it gives a more human appearance than you've seen from other kind of arena. And this isn't what you remember Heronac looking like the last time you were here when you were much, much younger. And he gives you a little nod. Yes, he will be a boon to your legacy, sir.

And there's this sense of distraction sort of behind Heronac's eyes as nothing is being held, but you can tell everything's being recorded. Like, this is a communications hub that is interacting with your dad. I think I'm going to look over at Heronac. The interactions I've been having with my mother via comms and things that she is sending me, I think there's something interesting to the openness and excitement of my father when in mixed company in the way that I feel primed by, my mother. There's some part of Z that can't help but feel uncertain if what my father is doing

is okay. I know Heronac, he's been working with my father for years. Yeah. But this is a new time with new rules. And I do think in this moment, just as Heronac is speaking, his relationship between him and my father. Is there something here? Does that uncertainty feel valid? I think there's a couple things that you're picking up on. There is a sense

of like pullback and hesitation and you realize that you are right to think it. One, because Heronac, in any discussion of the Durralli, you know that the Durale's creation of the schema is touted as an act of loving collaboration between the Urina and the 40 sons, especially the five families.

You know nothing of the actual negotiations, but the fact that the Irina are losing their son to this does not escape you. And though you don't necessarily know what their own interaction is, like their mechanism of interaction is, with, their own son. The thing about industry building something like this at a scale like this, it's a Dyson swarm, not a Dyson sphere because the amount of energy required to fully encapsulate the sun, you don't have the ability to capture that much, to process that much. And if you did, how long would that energy source last? There are. are two asteroid belts in the Averick system from when over extraction of resources from two uninhabited planets in your system caused the entire planet to crack, erupt, and eventually

create a belt of detritus. And that happened twice. The fact of heavy machinery is the inevitable loss, the mistakes that are made, and the great energy cost of making it. And I think your brain immediately lights on that initial hesitation is probably from someone who has done the calculations on what the Dorale means for their son in an amount of time that even you and your family

so long-lived because of how you are able to take care of yourselves here in the galaxy. It's still an order of time beyond reckoning. Beyond that, that distraction, you feel the timing of it now. As more and more data pours into your data pad, it seems to almost sync up with moments of, peak distraction from Heronac. And that's the second step back. I think you've been moving towards the realization that your parents are sort of fighting for your future amongst themselves. It's quite pleasant and you've made your declaration, but perhaps Garav isn't as aware of your intentions.

Your mother has said nothing yet, but in his sort of outward fawning and courting of you, Heronac knows or has some amount of access to the data you've been getting and sees that like where your attentions are actually being spent. So especially as your father fawns about you being the future of this part of the family business, Heronac is very politely excusing himself from being as excited as your father is. and there's some third thing based less in his actions and more in the change of his presentation towards you that you can't quite a light on yet but for someone who knows the power of appearances and being extremely specific and meticulous you know that that wasn't quite the right shade of Seema's favorite color on the carriage it wasn't quite the right level of tint to hide the surprise.

You know how important appearances are, and the choice Heronac has made in the last 10 years says something, but you're not quite sure what yet. I think Zadavon will tuck that away, a question to be explored another day. And thinking to his conversation with his mother, give this attention to his father. Because while his father does not know it,

This will be the last of the attention he is able to give before he fully puts his mind to his mother's work within his father's creation. To encapsulate the six days that you spend here, give me a reason, rule, if you can get above a 10, I will say that, like, as you encounter the logistics of the Duralee going into the future, even years from now, you will have a hyper-specific knowledge of how those things were built and what the intentionality is because your father wants you to know it because he wants you to love it. I will burn six grit, then I need a four. That's a two. I'm happy to offer you a second chance at this. I mean, I'll take a second chance. What do you want to give me for it? Oh, what will I give you for it? What are you looking for? This is a negotiation. If you offer me stringing your dad along for the next year before making any final call on where your intentions lie, trying to take two dates to prom, so to speak, and the attendant load for that, then I'll give you the re-roll.

I'm down. The thing that Zadavon thrives on is that interpersonal, interoperational, interoperable. is the idea and ability to make people feel seen and heard and understood. His actual intellect is a thing that needs more time. Things don't come to him like that. He needs to be able to sit with things. So if it means stringing my dad along for a year, that it gives me the time to build this understanding, let's do it.

That's a five. Oh, that's perfect. Make a note that whenever you come up against the Durali, you have a specific, highly technical intention behind design for the Durali that only true inner circle members of any of the five families would know. And that's because you spent a year with your father preparing to take that cognitive load from him and lead your family in that direction. It all gets harder now.

From here, you are stepping into yourself in earnest. And it would be one thing to have to rise and live up to your father's expectations, being the next great engineer, the architect of the pyramids. But Earth's old pyramids, those ancient wonders of the world pale in comparison to what your family has built

and what it seeks to build from here. That would be enough to make a lesser man crumble. But you also wear the great and heady expectations of your mother who now sees you as you've been putting together the puzzle. 12 key people and at the heart of all policy even policy that touches a human scale

that defies the conventional understanding of numbers it's still negotiations between people and you pick 12 and in learning them and being specific about following up about them your mother becomes very clear about all the dross that she sent to you and cuts right to the quick. These 12 are good.

These 20 are the most important. And she begins to send you her files. And those come with both deeply personal understandings of them and what their family's aims are. You see your family's conclusions about certain pulls and calls that have happened within the other four families. The jockeying, the positioning, what their actions say because their words are a matter of public record. But the things that they do to each other are so much more interesting than the things that you say. words are wind and you are brought fully into the fold the dual inheritor of tremendous expectations everything flickers back open eyes that somehow even in the darkness knew that they were not meant

to open again whom is a sterile and jarring bright white You hear a beep, the sounds of the world, come back to you slowly, making themselves clear. Everything around you is so white and clean. There's almost no smell to it. And you see your own hands no longer slick with blood, but bruised and tired folded gently across your torso. And though it hurts, the hurt feels distant. And you hear that methodical beep again and again. The sound of your own heart, your own vital signs across machines you can feel yourself tethered to them, monitoring you or keeping you alive, forcing you not to flicker back to the darkness again. You are in a hospital.

Cheyanka, you are very much alive. A little farther back from this, what you will know later in the story told to you, of you, is that in the carnage and the chaos you were found, taken to some medical facility close by, and miraculously saved, and brought here to the moon of Median 4. She.

An entire rock in the sky dedicated, terraformed as a hospital and medical recovery city, island. The very atmosphere of this place is hyper-oxygenated, a hyperbaric chamber built just for this. There is nowhere you can go that does not try to restore you. A little bit of irony if you knew that it was named after the number four, like Midian in the language of a culture where that word also means death. You take your time. Gee, do not flicker any longer, but not fading.

Staying here in the light hurts less dully the longer you stay. no one comes to check on you for a very very long time and you cannot feel the passage of time in a room full of light but no windows no sky no ground just healing painful white light I'm still not sure this is real I should be dead.

What's happening with Telogen? What happened to Ayasa and to the partygoers? What's happening to the park? Many thoughts, so many things, plates that were dropped in the moment where you flickered away, that you are trying desperately to grab back and glue back together. You don't know how long it takes you to put those thoughts together, but those thoughts are all you have.

Everything else happening to you is automated or happens in the space where you flicker back to sleep, little deaths every time, and get a little stronger every time you come back to that bright, white light, and it happens again and again, and you don't count. You just think and want. wonder and one day finally you hear footsteps approaching the door on the far side of your room. You notice but do not dwell on the fact that you hear something just a little metallic in that footstep and the door slides open and you see a gentleman with sort of long, dirty blonde,

braided back into a little bun, clean-shaven accepting like a thin mustache with deep-set, pale gray eyes. He's wearing sort of half of a suit, and you can tell he's like kind of looped his jacket over his arm. He's wearing like a pale pink button-down shirt. And you just walk. into the room, watching you, and immediately moves to a chair that he knew was sitting in the corner and pulls it up to sit beside you on your left side. Hello? Hi. Miss Tinka, may I call you Chi?

Yes. You can call me Vincent. It's a pleasure to finally be able to speak with you. and he kind of settles himself in this chair. There is an immediate comfort and ease with this room and this chair and this interaction that I think bears noticing. I find it a surprise to be able to speak at all. Well, you were brought back to groaning life at no small expense. But you're a hero.

That's what we do. We. Oh, yes. You have been a sleeping beauty for, I hope it's not too jarring to say ten weeks now, recovering. Ten weeks. Well, you were very much dead in the middle of a massive revolutionary bloodbath. It takes time to undy.

Too soon? I appreciate you and your group that go around saving heroes. Oh, we're no secret organization. Three points. I've been happy to make sure the recovery of a hero, the hero of Telogen, was not a close. question of resource. Three points.

Well, I'm glad that you found me and that you saw fit to undead me. Now, I am currently in a bit of a limited capacity, but... Mm-hmm. what can I do for you? Oh, this is a cursicle. We were given notice that you had somewhat revived, and I was tasked with coming to speak with you to establish a relationship.

There are conversations to be had, and I, for the sake of, these discussions, negotiations, will be your point person, so if you need anything, you need to only ask for Vincent. Thank you. It is always good to put a face to a negotiation. What happened? What happened to Telogen? Oh. Well, the regional director was found dead. The police reports say that some nasty mix up with a mob called the drug.

resulted in the death of a lot of admin and artisans and, you know, the general public at an event, Intelligent. It was intelligence interest to do whatever they could to try and, you know, cover things up. and once it was known that you survived this, especially after some internal missives that went back and forth, revealing the sort of nature of the fray. Unfortunately, no more records of those communications internally seemed to exist,

but with the lack of that, a mob fight broke out. enough admin was lost, and you were named the temporary holder of Biddeen Forres Telegen. Congratulations on your promotion. Do you happen to know what might have happened to others that could have just as easily been put in charge? Oh. Oh, yes. You would be concerned about.

I can provide you a list. I'll make sure your data pad has brought in and all relevant information in as much as is publicly known. I will happily pass to you. Thank you. Of course. I greatly appreciate it.

I am quite tired and out of sorts. Of course. We have so much time to speak. Yes. Thank you. Being alive is such an exhausting business. So if you're so young to think that, you'll only think it more later. Ah, well, I'll return in a few days. Again, much to discuss between you and I.

For the next two months of your recovery, you and Vincent meet every few days while he comes to you. You don't really go much of anywhere as you relearn two years. walk and move and move through your physical therapy and come back to yourself. And there are many conversations that are had. He lets you know that your placement as the interim head of Medine IV's Telogen is being met with some internal outrage, artisans and the like that survived the attack on Telogen. and keep threatening to tell the public the truth about what's happening.

And Vincent is in your ear asking you about what you would do if you wanted to control the narrative of this. As my body grows stronger and my mind begins to shake itself out of the haze, of death. One of the days that Vinson doesn't show up, I use my data pad and I broadcast a live stream. In it, I share almost in hushed, confidential tones to many of my select inner group of viewers. about how for weeks we'd been planning, scheming, dreaming of our freedom, and how on the night of the party we saw our chance and we struck about how we threw off the shackles of oppression,

about how we seized control of our own destiny, and in as bloodless an altercation as we could manage, We seized control of Telogen, and I am now just the reluctant custodian of it, while we figure out best how now to self-govern. You finish your stream, and a press release is sent out to this little sector of the 40 Suns that Telogen signed an agreement to release its Midian for operations, in their entirety to the independence

of its artisans spearheaded and helmed by Chi Tanka. What curious timing. What a coincidence. The next time Vinson comes in, he is wearing his full suit. You've seen permutations of the pastels in which he lives his life.

This is the first time he's appeared in a crisp, dark. charcoal suit, very formal, I want you to know that the people I represent and work with are very impressed by your acumen. Your talent was never doubted. Your potential is exciting. How are you feeling? Like once I can and get out of this hospital room. I can be anything I want to be. We couldn't agree more. Have you ever considered applying for apprentice level entry to three points?

No, I can't say that I ever have. I spent many years as an apprentice under Telogen, and I think that now that I am a master of my destiny, I believe that being in a junior position with any other company, as exciting and enterprising, though they may be, is perhaps tabled for a moment. Why? Are you thinking of taking me on as an apprentice?

Me personally? No. I'm simply the negotiator in the area. Hmm. But let's be very clear. You are negotiating with me, are you not? Of course. Good to hear.

I think this is going to be a very fruitful partnership, Miss Tanka. There's only one more thing to do. One more role. Charm, please. Hmm. A one. I think that even though I have control of the narrative, I am this here.

hero of the revolution and all of us are freedom fighters. Now we command such high prices because those clients we do take on, well, aren't they lucky to be chosen? But this place and the park that lies half completed is too much. I tried to put down roots here. in this place with fire and blood, and it just won't work. It won't take. You are one of the most charming people in the 40 Suns, and whatever tale of yourself and your world and your adventures you spin, they will believe.

Only you need to know the truth, so you can move around it. just as easily as a river flows around a landscape. A secret. So you look for more. You stay for a time. You make deals for a time. And when your opportunity comes, when your time comes, you grab for something greater.

You stay hungry. And you never have to tell anyone but that little corner, of green in your heart to the truth. Will you ever be happy with just a little patch of green? Never enough. That was Erica Ishii as Chitanka, Renanly Mulligan as Excelsia,

Lou Wilson as Zadavinavinaverix, and Abria Aingar as everyone and everything else. Solari is produced by Worlds Beyond Number, edit and sound design by Big Giant Head Productions, and score by Will Savino. For even more stories like this, join us on our Patreon. We'll see you by the fireside.