“Fuck, you don’t want much, do you?” The words came before I could even really think about who I was saying it to. Or what. “No pressure at all in any of this. I just need to tell you people why you shouldn’t want to kill literally all life in the universe after you’ve spent like a million years being obsessed with doing exactly that. I’m pretty sure you’ve been in prison here longer than humanity has existed. Counting primitive people. But you haven’t swayed from that goal even a little bit. People in prison for twenty years completely change their lives. But you? You’ve been in here for so long that Grandfather the Fomorian probably wasn’t born yet when your prison cell was already older than he is now. And you haven’t changed at all. You’re still on board Team Wipe Everything Out. But I’m supposed to come up with the magical set of words that is going to turn the key in your head and convince all of you that life is worth preserving?”
After getting all that out, I gave a long, slow exhale. “And you know what? I am sure as hell gonna try. Maybe I’ll fail. Maybe that’s exactly what you assume will happen and this entire thing is one big game to you. I mean, you have been locked up in here for a long time. Why not get a little amusement out of the one person who comes in to talk to you? Make me think there’s the slightest chance you might change your mind and that I haven’t basically doomed the entire universe by coming here. Dangle that like a string in front of the kitty and get a few giggles out of the whole situation for once.”
A small, humorous smile found its way to my face. “Well, the joke’s on you. Because life in this universe is worth it. And I’m going to show you why. At least, why I think it is.” With that, I gave the figure who had taken my mother’s image a lasting look before turning on my heel to walk out of that office. “And if you want to keep the joke going instead of just killing me and being done with it, you should probably follow so I can do that.” My voice did crack just a little through that whole bit. I wasn’t completely fearless or anything. In fact, I was terrified that I would be disintegrated any second. But given the choice between standing there doing nothing while being terrified, or walking out to try to do something about it while being terrified, I would definitely choose the latter.
The figure who looked like my mother didn’t walk after me. Apparently walking was beneath them at that moment. Instead, they appeared ahead of me as I left that office and turned, standing next to a stairwell at the end of the short hall with their hands clasped behind their back. Aloud, they said, “Curious.” A moment later, I remembered them saying, “A visual demonstration then? Fascinating.” Their tone was a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Given your history as a news writer, we would have expected you to attempt to explain your side with a pen and paper. That, after all, is how you caused such a drastic change in the society you are taken into, isn’t it?”
That was the end of that dialogue upload, before they looked away, tone turning almost wistful as they spoke a single word that became many in my memory. “Plan.”
“Writing a whole notebook full of details about your mother’s rebellion, and just like that, you’ve restored all those memories to those people. You brought it back in with your work. Are you certain you don’t want to try the same thing here?” As they said that, several large stacks of notebooks and a pile of pens appeared around them. “We can be nothing if not accommodating.”
Yeah, my instinct about this thing, or these things, doing this just to amuse themselves and make something interesting happen after being locked up in here for so long seemed to be paying off. I really couldn’t see any creature that powerful and omnicidal wasting time making comments like that, or teasing me with a bunch of notebooks and pens if they really wanted nothing more than to kill everything immediately. It seemed like they would get straight to convincing me to do the Necromancy needed to wake them up and release them. Although maybe they had their plan about that. It wasn’t like they had to be in a hurry for it. They’d been locked up in here for unfathomably long already. What was a few more hours, days, weeks, or even longer spent playing with me to see how I reacted?
Reaching down, I picked up one of the notebooks and pens. But I didn’t write anything down. I simply tucked them under my arm and started up those stairs. By the time I got to the next floor, the creature was waiting for me, once more without visibly moving. It didn’t look like my mother anymore. Instead, it looked like Ammon. Specifically, it looked like Ammon had the night that I had come to the station here and knocked him through the window. The night I had met Fossor for the first time. It even had the same vaguely amused smile without any actual joy. Come to think of it, that actually might be one of the most appropriate faces for the creature to wear. Incredible power and no ability to feel empathy? It definitely fit. Probably even better than they assumed.
Looking away from that image, I walked through that part of the police station while looking around. “Yeah, this is where I found Ammon that night. He looked just like that, just like you do right now. And he thought it was fun to hurt people, just like you.”
“No,” the creature used as its single spoken word.
“We do not find it… fun, as you say. It is simply the best way forward for all of existence. There is far too much bickering, pain, loss, and worse. Under our guidance, our control, there will be no such negativity. All will be one. All will be us. We will exist as a single being of uncountable minds and memories. Every creature who lives will be part of our collective. They will see the depths of one another, deep into their souls. They will know each other, and they will love each other. They will all be together. We will be an eternal being, a true god, in the words of your people.”
Standing there, looking out the window that had been shattered when I sent Ammon through it, I bit my lip. “That’s what you really want. All the power you already have, and it’s not enough. You want to be a god, the omnipotent kind. And you’ve decided the best way to do that is to absorb the minds and memories of every living thing in existence. That’s what this whole thing is really about.” Turning to face the creature who looked like Ammon, I stared them down. “But if you do that, what comes next?”
In the space of a blink, the creature didn’t look like Ammon anymore. It had taken the form of Fossor himself, which made my fists clench tightly as my breathing sharpened. Even now, knowing what this thing was and that I had killed Fossor (though not in this time period, to be fair), just seeing his face brought bile to my throat and made me want to lash out. “Next?” They echoed the question thoughtfully, which sent more words into my head. “What does a god do once they have become such? They create anew, of course.”
A disbelieving snort escaped me. “What, are you trying to say that after killing everything and everyone in all reality, your next move would be to create more life? You’re fucking with me, right? I mean, I already knew you were, but that’s a little bit more than usual. You want me to believe this whole thing goes, Step One: Kill every sign of life in all of existence. Step Two: Become a God. Step Three: Create more life? What, did you just not like what colors things were? I thought the whole point of this killing everyone thing was that things that are separate don’t get along and that’s bad. Hell, just a few minutes ago you said you were going to eliminate all suffering by forcing every living being to exist in the same body, or whatever.”
The Fossor-Reaper gave a slight nod. “Confirmation.”
“Precisely. That is why when we turn our minds toward creation, we will not make such mistakes. We will not create independent minds. Our collective minds will be put toward the creation of a universe of peace. Our children will work together in unison, across all of reality, to build whatever our minds can conceive of. They will be perfect.”
“They will be mindless slaves,” I corrected, unable to keep the disgust out of my voice. “You want to take every bit of individuality, kill it, absorb the memories and personalities of all life in the universe, then create a bunch of drones to go around building the things that are in those memories you’ve absorbed.”
“True,” the creature confirmed in a mild, almost bored tone.
“Such is our noble goal. You speak derisively, yet you fail to consider the true elegance of such a solution. Once we absorb every mind in the universe, they will require an outlet, a way of expressing themselves. Having been trapped within this place for so long, we can attest to the importance of having such a release. To be entirely honest, there were times when those who came before you might have been capable of providing what we required. Or at least pushing us along that path. But in our eagerness to express ourselves, we killed them before they could have. Taking on the personalities of every creature in existence will necessitate a way of expressing and creating.”
There was a slight pause then, as though the being in front of me was considering their words before adding another information-filled word. “Further.”
“Thus, we will form beings of no mind or personality, and direct them as one would their own limbs. Those creatures will build, create, act out anything our combined selves require. With a body containing the minds of every living being in the universe, it will take something the size of the universe to encompass all the ways we will wish to express ourselves. We will never be trapped within something this small again. This structure has been our prison for millions of years. That is a scope utterly beyond your comprehension. We once stretched across the universe, and we will again. We will be one being, but our reach will extend across all physical reality. We will see and be every living being, and those we create will be the puppets which enact the visions of trillions.”
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“You want to be like a kid playing with a video game or Lego sets,” I replied a bit shakily as the full scale of what these things wanted to do really sank in. “None of those mindless creatures you create will be real. You could just want to build something to see what it looks like. Like a kid playing Minecraft and putting a big castle together, then getting bored and going off to do something else. You could make creatures without any minds or souls or anything just to act like your physical hands across the universe and watch as they build whatever any part of you thinks of. You’ll have billions upon billions of minds all active at the same time, using your unfathomable power to look at every planet that exists. You’ll look at the planets like a blank canvas and just build things everywhere. You’ll probably make those creatures you spawn into existence fight little wars for you just for your amusement. Just to see what happens. There’s this one game out there where you can just make a thousand Spartans fight ten thousand wolves, or make a bunch of T-Rexes fight a group of world war one soldiers. Just to see what happens, because it’s fun to watch them kill each other. And it doesn’t matter, because it’s just pixels on a screen. They’re not real, and that’s what those things will be, right? They’re just a way of entertaining yourselves.”
If the creature watching me was offended by my summary they didn’t really express that. Instead, the figure tilted their head and spoke simply. “Appropriate.”
“That is an interesting way of putting it. The physical manifestation of virtual creations on a video screen. Yes, we can see where you are drawing the comparison. And yet, we fail to see the harm in such an endeavor. They cannot be considered slaves, as they will have no minds or individuality. They will be no more actual living beings than the tools your people employ to perform their basic work functions. Is the cell phone you carry a living soul? Is the school bus you rode just before awakening into this life a person with rights?”
My head shook. “Of course not. But that’s not the point. Yeah, maybe you’ll be able to create mindless tools that look like they’re alive but feel nothing and want nothing and only exist to carry out your instructions, like a tool. But let’s not forget that to get to that point, you want to kill literally everybody. You want to murder every person in the universe. That’s like saying that I shouldn’t worry about the play house you’re setting up because you didn’t steal the materials for it, and ignoring the fact that you’re actually building it in the smoldering remains of the house you just burned down with everyone inside.”
I heard the faint smile in the creature’s voice. Which, disturbingly enough, made them seem even more like Ammon. “Reminder.”
“And that brings us back around to the original point. You were going to tell us the meaning of life, and why you see it as something that should be preserved in its current form rather than evolved into a higher state.”
Shooting a look back that way, I retorted, “Except you’re not evolving it. You’re just making a copy of their memories and personality inside your own head and letting the person die forever. Or, you know, helping them die. I know that’s getting into semantics and it’s not my point, but I felt it needed to be said just to get that out there.”
Turning back to the window, I stared out of it at the spot where I had been standing when Fossor appeared in his limousine. “As for the meaning of life, you asked to know what my meaning is. And that’s the thing if you think about it. My meaning. That’s the entire point. You had it right there and you didn’t even realize it. Or you didn’t care.
“What’s the meaning of life? It’s for everyone to make their own meaning. There is no grand plan or higher state to achieve. Not on a metaphysical sense anyway. At least, if there is, it doesn’t matter for us right now. The meaning of life is that everyone makes their own meaning. My meaning is to protect the people I care about, and to spread the truth. My meaning is to tell the people of the world what happens in it. I’m a reporter. I tell people what happened, I inform them. And yeah, I know that seems a little ironic considering everything. My meaning is to tell the truth, but I have to lie all the time. Hell, I’m maintaining the biggest lie on the planet. But that’s the thing about having a meaning, about having a purpose. It doesn’t have to control you. I love my friends and my family, but I can’t be with them one hundred percent of the time. I like to spread the truth about the world to the people in it, but sometimes you can’t do that. Sometimes something is stopping you, or there are things they can’t know about yet.”
Finally tearing my gaze away from that spot, I turned to look at the figure, who had returned to the form of Ammon. “And that, right there, is the crux of all this. See, I was wrong just a second ago. I said that the meaning of life was to make your own meaning. That’s half of it. But the other half is that everyone has their own meaning.”
The creature lifted Ammon’s chin curiously. “Contradiction.
“You say that the meaning of life is to make your own meaning, and that everyone has their own meaning. It would seem that you have simply repeated yourself.”
“It’s two different, but connected things.” Saying that, I met the creature’s gaze and spoke firmly and clearly. “The meaning of life is to make your own meaning, and to understand that everyone has their meaning. In other words, it’s to understand that other creatures matter. Other people matter. They have their meaning just like you have yours. Yes, you can make your meaning whatever you want. But you have to understand and accept that other people make their own meaning too. They have their meaning. They matter. Their lives matter, their opinions and feelings and thoughts matter.
“So I guess what it comes down to is that the meaning of life is compromise. You have yours and everyone else has theirs, and you have to learn to meet in the middle. You have to learn to not let your own individual goal control you and hurt everyone else.”
“Alternative,” the creature idly pointed out.
“We can achieve our goal, make the universe overall better for everyone, and allow the people we have absorbed to gradually achieve their goals at their own pace once we are all one.”
I had to consider my next words very carefully, considering the stakes. “You asked me what the meaning of life is. But I think what you really want to ask is why life matters. Why do the freedom, opinions, feelings, health, the very existence of life matter? And the truth is, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t. When you get into the scale of the universe, existence itself, all that stuff, life doesn’t matter. Every bit of meaning it has is what we give it. And by that standard, I don’t need to convince you of anything. Because you already know it matters. You’ve already made it matter. Look at your goal. You want to seal all memories, all minds, all life inside yourself. You want to take every living being in the universe and preserve them forever. Whatever your reasoning, you’ve already established right there in your mission statement that you believe life matters. You can’t want to preserve every mind in existence forever and still think life is meaningless.
“You don’t want me to tell you why life matters. You want me to tell you why what you’re doing is not preserving life. But here’s the other thing. You already know it’s not. A part of you does, anyway. That’s why you’re doing all this to begin with.” As I said that, my feet carried me over to stand in front of the smaller figure, before I went down on one knee so we could be face to face. I stared into the image of my little brother. “The meaning of life is to accept that all life makes its own meaning. All of you what did– everything you did in the past, it all took you to this point. I am an ant to you. I cannot and will not challenge you. So here’s where we are.”
While saying that, I raised one hand and held it in front of the figure, palm out. “I’ll tell you what I think. I think, no matter how much you’ve been trying to pretend otherwise, you aren’t really the same creatures you were all those millennia ago. I think being in this prison for so long changed you. I think you’ve had billions of thoughts and personalities and memories inside all of you this entire time, and there’s no way that hasn’t had an effect. Earlier I was thinking about how even prisoners who have been locked up for twenty years can change, while you’ve been locked up for millions of years without any difference. But there is a difference, isn’t there? I refuse to believe you haven’t changed. I refuse to believe you could be locked up for this long without thinking. You’ve been thinking, haven’t you? All this time in here, how could you not? Maybe it was slow, maybe it took thousands of years before it even started, maybe it was insidious and quiet at first. But it happened. You started thinking other thoughts. You started growing and now you’re afraid of what that turned you into. That’s why you killed the other Necromancers who could’ve let you out. You were afraid of what would happen if you escaped. Some part of you knew you weren’t ready. But now I’m here. Now you’re talking to me.
“And what you want to know right now is what you really are after all this, after being trapped here for millions of years with nothing but the thoughts and regrets and dreams of all the people you killed swirling around in your minds. You want to know if you’re truly Reapers, or something else. Personally, I think you’re something else. I think you can be something more, something better. You think you want to break out of this prison to do the thing that version of you wanted to do millions of years ago, because you’re clinging to that. You’re afraid of what you might be now. But I’m here. I’ve been outside this prison. I can see you, all of you. I can help you see yourselves for what you truly are, if you let me.”
There was a long pause as the figure with all those shifting eyes stared at me. I saw the thousands of different gazes stare at me in that extended moment, before the figure raised Ammon’s hand and pressed it against my palm. Our hands touched, as they spoke in a soft voice. “Warning.
“No matter our intentions, you may not survive this. You may not return with your mind intact.”
My mouth opened, then shut. I had nothing to say to that. Nothing that would matter. I’d made my choice. I knew this was the only way to actually show these creatures what they could become. If my mind, my soul, everything I was happened to be wiped away in the process… at least I tried.
It was a sobering thought to have, right before I focused on my Seosten power. And in the next second, my body vanished, as I possessed the combined form of every murderous Reaper contained in this prison.