Chapter 61: Chapter 59: In context

The night without stars is illuminated only through the light of the moon, which is of course, a perplexity unto itself. The moon shines, of course, through its reflection of sunlight. Yet, with the sun at rest, having vanished to whatever abyss has taken it anew, the moon continues to glow hauntingly above the world with sickly, blue light that illuminates the surface of creation below. The blueness tinges it, coloring it as if it were the sickly discoloration of a face during the peak of illness.

 

It is simply inexplicable.

 

How could something the size of the sun simply vanish? How could there be anything large enough to cover it and obscure it? How could there be any force potent enough to move it away and then bring it back at desired times?

 

It all makes no sense, if only is locked in to the domains of the physical universe.

 

However, there is an avenue that remains yet open.

 

Gottlieb hangs out in the void of space, having clambered up onto the station to stare out in the void of space for a time.

 

He’s acquired a new suit from the supply, modifying it to his needs, and now he stares at the emptiness, at the true hole that exists within the fabric of the universe, as the station hurtles past the planet’s surface. Hues of thousands of colors, all tinged with blue, wash by behind his back as he stares at the emptiness.

 

The answer then, lies within the domains of the metaphysical and those above it, the true spiritual regions of existence, the notion of which would have brought the scholars and scientists of the station’s former crew to the edges of their seats in laughter if they had heard such an idea being proposed. But that is because they only thought in the context of the old world.

 

In the context of the new world, such things are very, very tangible and real.

 

Magic streams through the world as much as the rays of the sun or the bodies of the winds do. It channels back and forth, moving around from domain to domain, being passed around from source to source like energy that is transferred from one battery to another, before returning back to the endlessness of it all.

 

Entropy doesn’t exist here, in this dimension, at least not in the same sense as it did in the old one.

 

A person can flawlessly pass their energy on to someone else through prayer, worship, or magic. This energy can either be collected by a place or an entity, or it can be passed back on to another person. This energy can take the shape of a violent spell, a fireball that explodes in the air with crackling ferociousness, or it can take the calming form of a healing aura that tends to the wounds of the hurt. Or, it can simply collect.

 

He looks down at himself, at his body that continues to grow, even if he hasn’t fired the gun in time to gain experience-points.

 

That energy can collect and also come to a point of condensation.

 

It can come to force the state of godhood in a person, if applied to a single individual or creature — the prayers of thousands, millions.

 

But what about the opposite?

 

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If the masses can pray and bring about the birth of new gods, then it is established to be canon that they directly influence the happenings of the universe with their collective thoughts and prayers. So what about the opposite?

 

If millions of people live in terror that a great darkness will befall the land, that their crops will fail, that they will freeze, that they will starve, that they will be befallen by the gnashing teeth in the darkness that never stops — surely this belief will become just as true then in the long run, as the former?

 

The system works both ways.

 

Gottlieb stares at the sun, which is there and isn’t there, in the same way that he is and isn’t a god.

 

He shines brightly as an avatar of humanity because they pray for him to be so.

 

The sun is dark because they believe it to be so.

 

In all likelihood, this is his best guess. It’s so simple, but the mechanics of this universe, down to their base level, are simple.

 

“It’s ready,” crackles a voice in his ear, Braungrube.

 

“Okay,” replies Gottlieb, looking down at his feet. “Flip the switch.”

 

“Are you sure?” she asks.

 

Gottlieb bends down, holding his hand against a metal panel, which covers the exterior of a newly built section of the station. “What’s the worst that could happen?” he asks.

 

She laughs nervously. “Good question!” replies Braungrube. He hears a heavy clicking sound on her end, and then everything is quiet for a moment.

 

Until an instant later, the metal panels beneath his feet vibrate with a dull resonance. “Okay, uh…”

 

“— It needs some juice to get kick started,” says a voice, Grunheide.

 

“On it,” replies Gottlieb, looking down at his hand.

 

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