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4.0

“Fail not when opportunity is fair;

Behind Time’s bald, his forehead's thick with hair.” - Distichs of Cato II, Verse 26

 

Two different streams of consciousness merged. My hand paused in mid-air as it was typing. I blinked unfamiliar eyes. Time… Monday, 2 pm. My vision was strange. Things were… ‘too colourful.’

 

I withdrew my hand to rub my head. Odd, when did I gain fingers? Five fingers were too much. Wait, no. Five was normal for humans. I think? ‘Aftereffects of being in another body for too long?’ Hendrix said there were programs helping with that. ‘I should probably set a schedule to log off. Weekly at the very least.’

 

In front of me, my screen displayed an online class on electron transport chains. The digital professor droning in an extremely tiring voice. In Gaia, I had just convinced the potato and Peps to help me run a kebab store with equipment bought from Dave. And did I die again?

 

‘God damn it, I am stupid.’

 

I closed my eyes and zoned out for a moment to clear my mind, focusing only on my breathing. When I opened them again, the strange disorientation was gone.

 

Merging back was strange, it’s not like I was just getting the memories uploaded in my brain. It felt different. ‘I would know, remember when I tried to download taekwondo?’ The emotions and mental state of both of me were merged, Dustin me was still on an excitement high and… Declan me was bored and tired beyond belief. Two opposing mental states were mashed together. Just downloading data memory didn’t do this. It didn’t give those extra things like muscle memory, instinct or emotion. Was that what caused my temporary disorientation? ‘Would mental scars also transfer?’

 

Shaking my head, I put those stray thoughts away. Opening up another notepad, I typed down a note to log off every few days.

 

The disorientation was fading. Disorientation didn’t feel like the right word though, it was more like a feeling where I had another limb, but that limb suddenly disappeared and I gained a different one, but still retained the muscle memory of that lost limb.

 

I shook my head again, then narrowed my eyes as I noticed a new sentence in my notebook. That exact thought about disorientation was written down.

 

I don’t recall writing that.

 

I glanced at my hand, though of course there was nothing strange with it. Was this causing me to develop a split personality? ‘I don’t mind I guess. There is a lot of empty space in here.’

 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My thoughts were scattered. ‘So focus them.’

 

‘Working on it,’ I answered and it was done.

 

I opened my eyes. My vision felt clearer. Did Eve’s programs finally kick in or was it something I did? Merging back wasn’t this bad last time. Did I spend too long in Gaia or was it something related to my mental state? I sighed, another thing to consider at another time.

 

Speaking of time… I cringed slightly as I saw that five minutes had passed. God damn it. The teacher had already passed at least two slides, this teacher was as exciting as watching paint dry but he was comprehensive. I dragged my notepad back into vision and began typing, opening another tab displaying the presentation from the slide I missed. Perhaps subconsciously, my eyes flicked by the Gaia app on my UI.

 

It wouldn’t technically be wagging class as one of me would remain here. If I could clone myself, I might as well take advantage of it.

 

Opening the Gaia app again, I logged back on.

 

 

I blinked. The teacher kept droning on in his utterly dead voice. Looking around, I noted a distinct lack of change in my surrounding area.

 

“Fuck, I’m the one that-” I stopped, then quickly glanced at my mic icon to see that it was thankfully muted.

 

“Fucking hell I’m the one that stayed,” I finished.

 

After about an hour of glancing at the clock to make sure that no, my mind wasn’t sped up by some sadistic asshole to make it seem like every second was thrice as long. I finally finished the class. I should’ve expected this to be honest. The whole duplication thing meant that one of me would always be placed in this situation. To that person, me, it would feel like I never went to Gaia. It did offer an advantage though, past the short disorientation I actually felt somewhat refreshed after merging back up. It seemed to have found some middle ground between me who was relaxing for a day and the tired me who was studying. Perhaps I could use it to cut a few more hours off my recreation period and make my studying more efficient.

 

Finishing my last few footnotes, I began saving my myriad of notes into the correct places as a stray thought passed my mind.

 

Would I have to ever fight myself? Seemed unlikely, other than the brief moment of merging neither can interact with each other at all.

 

“It would be difficult, however,” I muttered as I began to sort my notes into the right files.

 

Assuming a situation occurred where we came in conflict, he may be either the easiest or hardest opponent I could feasibly have. He knows how I think, I know how he thinks. Maybe the best case scenario would be the both of us falling into a Catch-22 of predicting each other moves- No. It’s more than likely he’ll try to exploit that uncertainty by making deliberately risky moves and counting on me overthinking it.

 

I finished sorting the files, and opened my checklist. My eyes widened a bit in surprise as I realised I had finished everything on my study list.

 

‘Huh.’

 

I checked it over, making sure that I had finished everything, before checking again, and again, and again.

 

‘Huh,’ I thought again, genuine surprise passing my face as I opened up each of my classes' web pages. Checking them to find that I was- Actually! Wait, no, I finished that last week. What about… nope. Two weeks ago… I finished that one yesterday…

 

I was actually finished with all my work. In fact I was a few weeks ahead in most classes. Ain’t that a surprise.

 

I leaned back on my chair. Eyes falling- or rising to my blank white ceiling.

 

What else can I do?

 

‘I’ was already in Gaia so that was a dead end.

 

There wasn’t anything interesting to watch on UsTube, the algorithm was largely recommending repeats. ‘One guy can create sapient AI on his home PC and a megacorp can’t even fix their algorithms.’

 

Checking the few other games I played, I saw that Matt wasn’t online currently on any of them. He wasn’t even playing Path of War or Yggdrasil. That was rare.

 

I glanced at my mailbox. The thought of calling Matt dying as quickly as it came to my mind. No point bothering him.

 

So I sat there, staring aimlessly at the ceiling, before I rose up and left my room. I was heading for the kitchen, not because I was hungry, but more so because it was the natural state of being for a bored human to check the fridge. Regardless of hunger or whether or not the fridge actually had anything to eat.

 

It was surprising to see someone actually there.

 

“Ba?”

 

Declan senior was not an imposing man despite being well above one-eighty centimetres. His shoulders were broad but slouched, his face too tired and strands of white were showing in what was once pure black hair. He was sat atop a stool by the kitchen countertop, examining the contents of a package. Quickly glancing at the barcodes told me it was from Taiwan.

 

“Didn’t have work today?” I asked as I passed him, he was still examining the contents of the package. An expensive-looking necklace, but seemed to be missing several gems from its inlays.

 

“I didn’t,” Ba answered as he put the necklace down, rubbing his forehead in an annoyed expression, “they told me I deserve a rest after working non-stop for a week.” He shook his head in clear annoyance, “Nonsense I told them, a human being can stay awake for ten days if need be. More if I had coffee.”

 

I glanced at him, now noticing the dark bags under his eyes as I got a clear look at his face, and that was with a full night of sleep.

 

“You do realise that staying up for that long tends to lead to… Inaccuracies?” I said as gently as I could. ‘And you’re a doctor, an inaccuracy might be dangerous,” I left unsaid.

 

Ba snorted, “That’s what they said, though with a lot less hiding around.”

 

He mimicked, rather poorly, the voice of his hospital's dean, “Kevin get some goddamn sleep before I have to knock you out and force you to have some.”

 

‘How did this man become a doctor?’ I wondered not for the first time in my life, and probably not the last.

 

Ba shook his head, “Forget about that,” he said, standing up. “Did you make sure to use the deactivation signal for the gel?” He approached me, grabbing me by the face and turning me to face him so he could poke my nose.

 

“Yeah Ba, I know how they work,” I answered, my voice a bit muffled as his hand was holding both my cheeks.

 

“You better,” he said, “not turning that stuff off leads-”

 

“To horrific cancer and weeks of surgery,” I chirped in, “though only if the nanites were left active for at least two weeks, which might I add-”

 

“Has not passed,” he interrupted as he let go of my face, apparently satisfied with the state of my nose. “Though it is always better to be safe than sorry.”

 

That I could agree with.

 

“God damn hospital shouldn’t even have needed the gel,” he muttered as he sat back down on the stool. “Just straighten the nose,” he glanced at me questioningly, “you didn’t ask for the gel just so you can get rid of the bruise did you?”

 

“Nope,” I answered, as I opened the fridge. “They just painted the stuff on me, I assumed they were more qualified than I was so didn’t question it.” In truth I was too disorientated at the time to really register the outside world at all. Far too busy pondering the implications of the crash and the invite I recieved.

 

“Better I suppose,” he said, “Next time make sure you go to my hospital in Parkville, not the backward clinic over there. I’ll examine you myself.”

 

“That hospital was closer,” I answered as I opened the fridge and noticed something. “Ba did you buy actual pork?” I turned around with an accusatory stare.

 

“It was cheap today,” he defended, though he looked away from me, like a kid who was caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar.

 

“How much?” I asked, though it did not escape me, the irony of me who has essentially been freeloading on my dad asking him about how he spent his money.

 

He shrugged in that non-committal way, “Ehhh… Only fifty…” he turned around to face me, as if realising suddenly that I was his son and that theoretically, he should have higher authority than me. “It was on sale! Plus we haven’t had a good KBBQ in ages!”

 

“We had one three weeks ago Ba, you just fell unconscious halfway through from weeks of overwork.”

 

“I wouldn’t have if someone hadn’t poisoned my coffee with decaf!” he yelled, before quickly turning away, a hand on his forehead. Apparently nursing a headache. “And that was with synth meat,” he said in a quieter voice, almost a whisper, “that stuff just isn’t the same.”

 

I raised an eyebrow, I personally never tasted a difference. It wasn’t designed to be different. And I felt it was better than actual meat in some cases, but never that different other than how it’s sourced. I almost gave that retort, before I remembered the dark bags under my dad’s eyes and how he got them. Working day and night despite the insistence of most people. He was an idiot for overworking himself in the first place, but he was my Ba, and so I relented.

 

“When’s Ma coming back for the BBQ?” I asked, closing the fridge door behind me.

 

“Oh she isn’t coming back today,” he answered, I opened my mouth, but he quickly answered, “your great aunt died, so she left to visit her in Taiwan, we told you this in the morning. Did you forget?”

 

The memory came to me, I was writing an essay about one of Isaac Kramer’s speeches, and she told me as she was packing up. ‘Did I forget- No.’ The memory wasn’t forgotten, it was just further back in my mind, because of me logging off, it didn’t feel like the memory was from this morning but from two days ago.

 

“I didn’t forget,” I said, it was even half true.

 

Ba snorted, apparently catching onto my lie. “God damn I raised a friendless workaholic,” said the friendless workaholic.

 

“My great aunt sent us that ugly necklace?” I asked, diverting the subject. I never met my great aunt. I did meet my grandma once. Funny person.

 

“Be careful now, that’s your great aunt and grandma you just called ugly,” he replied, raising the necklace.

 

My brain short-circuited for a moment, “Elaborate?”

 

He smiled in that macabre humour sort of way, “They apparently thought it’d be funny if they compressed their carbon into diamonds and sent them to every relative. This probably isn’t the greatest of introductions but,” he presented the necklace, “Declan Lu, meet your grandmother, Unice Chang” he pointed to the middlemost diamond, “and your great aunt, Yasmine Chang” he gestured at the only other diamond on it.

 

I processed this information in a shocked quiet way, before shaking out of it with the ‘not my problem philosophy.’

 

Heedless, my Ba continued, “Apparently they want us to fill in the remaining inlays, and Declan, I hope that I don’t have to tell you but when I die of overwork I don’t want to be turned into a gem to creep out my family for generations. I want you to fire my body into the sun. You know, like a responsible son.”

 

Well at least he’s aware he’s overworking himself.

 

“Ba, with the amount of caffeine there is in your body, we won’t get past customs. Just stick with a Viking burial like the rest of us,” I replied only half-jokingly. I’m sure his body would count as a bioweapon somewhere, or at least a breach of the Gibraltar Accords.

 

“Do not cremate me at a crematorium named Viking Longboat and call it a Viking funeral.”

 

Drat, he realised. It took me ages to find a crematorium named after a ship. “When will Ma be coming back then?” I asked, changing the subject.

 

“Not till the weekends,” he answered.

 

“BBQ’s delayed till then?”

 

“Yes,” he answered.

 

My eyes turned towards him, catching the brief hint of regret on his face before he masked it just as quickly.

 

“We could have a little BBQ ourselves first,” I said, “save some meat for when Ma comes back, I have been wanting to eat some non-synth meat.” I wasn’t, but I knew Ba enough to know that he probably wanted to, before he threw himself in the fray of work for another few weeks.

 

He snorted, “Just us two? No need to bust it out for such a small occasion.”

 

That angle didn’t work, Ma raised me to be tight with money and he knew that. Pressing this point wouldn’t work.

 

A message notification appeared on my mailbox, giving me an idea, “What about Matt?” I asked, “We could head to his place and share it with his family.”

 

Ba looked at me with clear confusion for a moment, “You… you actually suggested going to Matt’s?”

 

“What, is there something wrong with that? I hang out with him all the time.”

 

“Yeah but when was the last time you even considered being the one to suggest it?” he wiped away a tear, “And I thought my son would die friendless and alone. There’s actually hope for you. I might actually see grandkids before I die now.”

 

I raised an eyebrow, thinking, ‘I’m doing this for you, you overworked shit,’ though I didn’t voice my thoughts. “I’m calling him.”

 

Matt picked up after a single ring.

 

“Decs! Have you seen the new expansion in-”

 

“Are you free this afternoon?” I asked, cutting straight to the point.

 

“Yeah, why?”

 

“My dad bought some pork, but my mom left for a business trip. He was thinking about taking it to your place and sharing it,” I lied. “Neither of us can cook, so he figured Sarah could help with it.” Which was true, neither of us can even cut an onion evenly.

 

“Wait, wait, wait. Actual pork!? Like not the synth stuff?” he asked with rising excitement.

 

“Yeah?” I answered. He sounded way too excited for this.

 

“Holy- MOM!” he suddenly yelled, “DECS GOT SOME PORK TO SHARE!” Two female voices yelled back, both I recognised as his mothers’ but couldn’t make out the specific words.

 

“When are you coming?” Matt asked.

 

I glanced at my Ba, he shrugged, “Probably soon, four to five pm at least. You guys have a korean barbeque grill right?”

 

“Hell yeah we do!” I could almost feel him punch the air in glee. “Alright we’ll see you here!”

 

“Sure, see ya later,” I answered as I hung up.

 

I felt like I was missing something important as I hung up. “Ba how much meat did you buy?”

 

“Like one kilogram,” he shrugged, “why?”

 

Huh, fifty dollars for one kilo of natural meat actually was a good price- Focus goddamnit.

 

“No I just have the weirdest feeling I’m missing something-” I paused.

 

“How many people are in Matt’s family?” I asked, though my mind already conjured an answer. Four, both of Matt’s ‘rents, Matt himself and his little brother. Ba bought one kilogram assuming it’ll feed three people. We just offered to feed six.

 

I groaned, “Ba can you check if the sale is still going on?” I said, trying not to think about the fact we could easily buy twenty-five times the amount of synth meat with that amount of money.


In a place beyond the skies. There was a place that once was a library. Within was a figure.

 

He sat at a desk older than years could count. His eyes appeared pure black and never stopped staring at the world above. He never blinked, even though dust had long settled around him, masking his body in a veil of grey.

 

The only part without dust was the desk in front of him, where his hands moved to do his work. His left held a pen, making the only sound within the desolate place. The other supported a book with infinite pages, flipping to a new one when needed. He wrote of what he saw. Gods and men, discoveries and conflict, whether great or small, he wrote it. He wrote it all.

 

But as he flipped to a new page, something strange occurred. Something which broke his millennium-long pattern. The being found a card wedged within the pages.

 

Centuries-old dust was disturbed as the being, for the first time in a long time, moved his head. It creaked as he looked to the book, to the card laid in between the pages. The card depicted a man with one arm stretched to the heavens, the other to the earth below. He wore a wide-brimmed and pointed hat that reminded one of a mushroom. Before him lay five tools, of them only two were coloured, the rest remained a stark white contrast against the colourful artwork. Yet, their outlines showed enough to make out a scroll, a wand, a lens, a filled goblet, and a key.

 

The being blinked. Eyelids pushing off layers of dust from his bare eyes. For the first time in millennia, the being smiled as he turned again to look at the body gently laid next to him.

 

Through all this, the sound of the pen never stopped, for the being never stopped writing. Never stopped recording what he saw.

 

“It is the year 2856 of the Third Age. The elves call upon their dwarven allies as the goblins push them to their final forests. The Western Kingdoms are brought to chaos as a necromancer commits regicide in a mad bid to resurrect the Revenant King. In the north, the Yuan Tei experiences the first organised attack by Shadesmar in two centuries before it is repelled by Lu the Black Hand and the Order of Lanterns. Deep within the Tyrian Sea, Tritus reports two Greater Demons passing the Gate. One Entropy and the other Order. Caligula the Swift, Lance of the Great Blue, aided by a Leviathan Ship, slew the Demon of Entropy before the Order Demon forced a cease. Perhaps heralding this new age of conflict, the fourth Great Transmigration has occurred and Travellers stream into the world once more. During all this, the God Historian was left an omen in the form of a Tarot.

 

It was the Magician, and he knows his chance has come.”

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