In the beginning, the universe was created—it went horribly and most people thought that it was originally not a very good idea.

That is a popular one-liner from a book I used to read as I spent my time bored and muddled at the desk that I was assigned to. Though the name of the book is unfortunately lost on me now at this time. My recurring thought involving the line in question is still considerably surprising to me—if not downright bewildering.

It shouldn’t have been something that sticks out in my mind at all, isn’t it? Just a random line from a random book I probably chose to read randomly as I float through my day job at the library, watching the ticking clock and desperately wishing for the ability to control the flow of entropy or something so that I can quickly go and have a sweet honeymoon with the lunch box that my wife always prepared for me in the morning—God bless her.

Well, in my recollection—actually maybe ever since then and thereafter—I never actually end up with any space-time manipulating power, which now that I think back on it was probably all for the better, considering that I don’t know if that power would actually come with some kind of responsibility that I’m not sure I could properly handle.

Hypothetically speaking if that space-time-bending ability were to actually be given to someone like me. The whole of existence could be put in great danger as my incompetency could most likely lead to the potential breaking of the space-time continuum and doom the rest of humanity—but I digress.

This isn’t supposed to be derailed into my musing that happened as I looked at the ticking clock hanging behind my desk in such a position that I had to always tilt my head 35-degree angle in order to look at it properly, I still don’t know the name of the person who hung it there, but the funnily enough… I recently had the amazing opportunity to find out literally every little thing that I always wanted to know.

Back onto the topic of what I brought up earlier, that funny little sentence that stuck with me after all this time…

You know, as I pass the time on that musty little wooden desk in that drab, dilapidated old library. When I wasn’t checking ledger after ledger of receiving and discarding piles after piles of precious, sacred, valuables, and sometimes worthless papers… My mind seems to often wander into a series of pointless philosophical contemplations and one that stuck with me the most; was about the universe, if the possibility exists that it was created artificially.

Specifically, how it would work if someone had created it.

More specifically—who the hell thought that it was a good idea to make it like this in the first place?

As you may have already inferred from what I have said in the past. I’m a considerably humble person and this humble person would like to present his humble opinion that—the universe is way too fucking cruel.

Whatever you do in your life! Whatever it is! However hard you put in the effort! If the predetermined conditions—the unpredictable, uncontrollable, unknowable—predetermined condition has not been met. Try as you might… not a single thing you do would ever be appreciated by anyone… not even the ones you thought loved you the most.

But then you keep on trying and trying to get noticed for your hard work. When you actually look back, however… the last chance to impress those who once looked down on you and redeem yourself… was gone.

Before you even realized it. With no warning. No foreshadowing. Nothing to prepare you for it. That chance is gone forever.

Life was like that… the universe was like that… and most things were like that.

Random. Uncertain. Unreasonable.

Things just happen…  they keep happening whether not it was in or against your favor. [You] or [Me] aren’t even a part of the equation in the first place.

What did I do wrong for me to warrant all these things that happened to me? What kind of completely arbitrary sets of quantum events did I unintentionally trigger at what point, that eventually started the ball rolling down from the top of the Himalayas to the depths of the Mariana trench?

Was it something like [Luck] after all? Then again why? What did I do that even [Luck] decides to also screw me over like everything else? Was there really something about my plight and pleading that made it so unbearably pathetic that even the greater forces of the universe want to get rid of me?  

There is a saying that if one was denied by God, they would seek out the Devil for answers. But either it was God or the Devil, I can’t see them thinking that the way things are, is in any way good.

So who the hell was it?

Who thought it was a good idea to make everything happen randomly as if it was all decided on the rolls of the dice?

Who made it so that whatever we think we can do or accomplish, eventually all of it will be turned to dust… and lost forever without even a point of it all?

.....

Tell me, who is it?

—————..........

“Over there is a path to the inner column of the archive, over there is an interface welcoming device designed for—welcoming. I didn’t make it. I just put it there because I thought It was cool. Over there is this tower spiraling stairwell that leads to the main observation room. Might I remind you that this place doesn’t exactly have a restroom—not that any of us would actually need it? And look at the stairs! It might look like really neat and clean wood but if you actually use it. Tada! It’s also an escalator!” 

Master jumps up and down the first step of the stairwell, a bit over excitedly presenting me with the stair. I mean… sure it’s impressive, that. But…

“Isn’t it just an escalator, then?” 

“It doesn’t look like one does it? It looks like a normal stair, but it works like an escalator. The best of both worlds, this multipurpose design was actually just a work of pure brilliance if I have to say. Come over and stand here. Also, hold onto the railing properly because this will be quite fast.”

I make my way to his side and hold on to the rail as we begin to ascend to someplace that I don’t even know… but I’m going to assume somewhere up… should be a very safe assumption. I still feel a bit of tingling excitement in my stomach as I observe the grand, magical surrounding.

"All of it was designed to move in on itself. You don't need to walk anywhere in the Grand Archive, it will just come to you.” 

I can see the moving parts of the library all around me. The whole place feels, almost alive. [The Conceptors Grand Archive] has no walls or ceiling, but I’m still unable to see very far due to the circular design of the towers that look almost like they were all just giant round bookcases.

Everywhere I look, left, right, up, or down. Books! Books everywhere! they fill in the empty space in the wall and prevent me from seeing through them. But If I have to guess, what’s beyond those walls of books... are probably more books.  

I stand still and marvel at the sheer scale of this place, thinking about what is contained inside those relatively simple-looking tomes that are everywhere in my sight.

“Are all of those… records? Of people? their entire life experience in a single book?”

“Hahaha… as if. Steve, you’re still not getting it. Even if they are someone very important who also lives a very eventful life for at least a million years—they would still not get two pages in the record. If we are strictly talking about a person’s life experience of course.”

Master smirks. Apparently, my original misconception about the shortness and meaninglessness of human life—is still a gross overestimation.

“Don’t overreact to what I said too much, Steve. The lower floor only has records of environmental information. Boring stuff like planet characteristics, geography, position, ecosystem etcetera etcetera. So they only don’t have much to do with any living things. The actual biographies are in the section where we’re heading to right now... “

The Escala-stair (that actually does sound pretty cool) comes to a halt and in front of me and Master is a circular disc wooden floor with railings that separates the space between the wall of books around it.

“This is the main observation room.” 

“I don’t see much here at all…”

The room isn’t much of a room for it doesn’t have any furniture. Actually, aside from this part of the disc that is connected to the stairwell, It doesn't have anything else. Which is a bit disappointing considering that he has hyped it up as if this was the most important place in the archive.

“Steve, like I said before—”

Tick Tock Trrrr.!

Mechanical sounds of turning gears coupled with the trembling floor shake my very soul.

“The Archive comes to you.” 

The wall of books all around us begins to shift and rotate, making ways for various devices and parts to move toward where we are. I can see that there is a mechanical elegance in its movement, like a perfectly choreographed and coordinated dance of machinery. Slowly, even the floor that I’m standing on begins to move and reshape itself.

“I’m the master of this place. So when I say this is the main observation room. This becomes the main observation room.”

Eventually, the rumbling stops as the room begin to take on a new shape. A hole is opened in the middle of the floor and some kind of device is ascending up from underneath it. The device is a golden globe-like object with elaborate carvings on its surface, by its surroundings are two, thin golden rings that each hold its own circular part that seems to contain something like a black orb with golden light illuminating from the middle… like a golden pupil of pitch-black eyeballs.

Wait—are they?

“This—is [The Astral Projector] It’s a container and a controller for [The Outsiders Eyes]. One of [The Godmakers] that allows the users to transcend the plane of existence, becoming a being of a higher dimension. You can go anywhere in time and space with this, and see everything.”

Master lightly touches the large globe, and it opens up.

———!!

The raw emanating power I feel coming from the inside almost brings me to my knees. I could feel its unfathomable capability manifesting itself as an overwhelming aura. Revealing inside the globe is a stand, shaped for something that looks like a book.

“Calling 1st level. ESDP:10235. Subject: Steve Carlo. 6th.” 

Master raises his hand into the air.

[Authority Confirmed: Permission Granted to the Sixth Master of the Conceptors Grand Archive. Delivering Subject.]

A monotonous but pleasant voice rings out from all around me.

This place can talk?! Actually, that isn’t even all that surprising now that I think about it, never mind.

Fuawaph! The sound of wind rushes past the side of my head and before I even realize what’s going on, a book appears in the hand of Master.

—Couldn’t you have at least warned me first?!

“This is you, Steve”

He holds the book towards me.

“All of you. Everything you have ever done. Every word you have ever spoken. Every thought you have ever had in that ordinary little head of yours. It’s all in here.” 

“...” 

Master strides around [The Astral Projector] and continues to give his monologue.

“This is how it works.” 

He places the book onto the stand inside the orb, and it closes up. Then Boom! A shining light fills my vision. and when I open my eyes again. I’m no longer in front of the device, and the Master is nowhere to be seen. Hold on—

I’m not even in [The Conceptors Grand Archive] anymore, am I?

I look at my suddenly brand new surroundings, a familiar environment of the city I was born in now looks strange, otherworldly even… maybe it’s because I didn’t think  I would be able to see it again.

Why am I back here…?

“I hate to break it to you, Steve. But no matter how I cut it—you’re not a very interesting person.” 

I look behind me to see Master, sitting on the roadside fence as cars pass by us, he is holding the book from earlier and appears to be giving it his full attention.

Of course, I’m not… I stopped trying to be.

The world doesn’t seem frozen this time around and everything looks normal. But as more pedestrians on the sidewalks pass by the two of us, I notice that no one reacts to the sudden appearance of me or Master. My suspicion is proven by a figure of a boy running directly through my body. I’m just a consciousness still… my real body is probably still there at that crossroad of destiny. Where apparently, the balance of the universe hangs on a thread, woven with my death as its silk.

“The boy earlier was you, Steve. From 10 years ago—for your relative time anyways it was 10 years ago. Back when you still had a sense of purpose, a sense of desire, of hope. But then it disappears. You became a person of complete complacency, being fine with whatever life throws at you no matter how bad it was. Hiding your rage against the universe in the innermost corner of your mind as you put on a face of indifference... What happened that made you that way?”

What happened, huh? I don’t actually remember…

“Let me jog your memory a little then.” 

The scenes around me begin to peel off as if it’s a page of a book being turned right in front of my eyes.

In this scene, however, I remember very clearly… the flying petals of spring flowers send a sweet fragrance mixture across the air. I was still in college then, and that was the first time I met her… on this very street.

“Sabetha Romania, Later known as Sabetha Carlo… the love of your life, the woman of your dreams, the last dream you ever tried to achieve, in fact. Was your relationship with her that fulfilling? So much so that it made you want nothing more from life? Love can sometimes be an unstoppable force that fundamentally changes a person... Was it also because of Love that you changed?” 

I watch as I stand by the side of my younger self, the figure of her back slowly disappears into the crowd. Was it because of her? She has certain qualities aside from her beauty that attracts me and many others. One of which being her stubbornly passionate personality. She has so much energy in her life, so much hope that to my eyes she seems to almost be glowing.  

I want her to be a part of my life because she can fulfill that part of myself that I had lost—long before that.

“So it wasn’t Love, either… then how about this?”

The page turns once again. This time it isn’t a single gentle flip but a rapid skip through the book of my memories. As the scene starts to form… I shudder in the realization of what is in front of me.

"N-No... Not this!"

“Lost, then? It was Lost that changed your nature as a human being.” 

The scene begins to play out, the exact scene that is unfolding in front of me now is one that I remember so clearly from my dreams.

Please don’t do this. Don’t show this again! PLEASE! STOP!

“How many times, Steve? How many times have you had that dream? What does it make you feel?”

“WHY DO YOU CARE?! YOU ALREADY KNOW EVERYTHING, DON’T YOU?!”

Snap—!

"There's that rage that's been hiding."

Unknowingly, I scream at him, and that which respond to me is a sound of a book being snapped shut—

“I do know, but because I already know everything. It doesn’t change anything. Change can only happen when you know, Steve. So the question became—do you?”

I look around, [Master], [The Astral Projector], [The Conceptors Grand Archive] I hold my head in my hand, feeling like I have woken up from a dream. Or am  I currently in one? Frankly, at this point, I’m not even sure anymore.

“But enough about you for now. Your problem doesn’t matter to any of us in the slightest, so let’s move on to something else instead.” 

"..." 

It seems that my quirky new friend here has a short attention span along with a tendency to be annoyingly manipulative, great… All things aside now that he is technically the only friend I have at the moment, then wouldn’t he also technically be the best one? And also the worst one, funny that.

“Calling 1st level. ESDP:10235. Subject: Sabetha Gilligan. 6th.” 

[Authority Confirmed: Permission Granted to the Sixth Master of the Conceptors Grand Archive. Delivering Subject.]

Another book flies to the Master’s hand. A familiar name is heard from his lips.

“The universe isn’t as random as you think, Steve. At least this one isn’t… not really sure about the others. You might also want to move away from that spot.”

Master snaps his finger and I jerk back. It’s a good thing I have or else that couch would have fallen on top of me.

Where does it even come from?

“You want some popcorn as well? I don’t actually eat though so that might be a little difficult.”

Master puts the book into [The Astral Projector] and walks over to sit on the couch, feeling a little bit awkward about my placement, I think I should probably go and sit on it with him.

The scene around me begins to change once again while I ponder the meaning of Master's words. Sabetha is the familiar name of my wife, but Gilligan certainly isn’t.