030. Splice Storm

Four narratives competing distort the localspace. The Immaculate Author writes; Gruff, the hacker, writes; the interloper from elsewhere writes; and the reality writes itself.

The Prime Throughline isn’t apparently in the driving seat anymore. The thing which pushes is a confluence of divergent streams, like psychic floodwater pushing through the throat of a single river.

Seasickness swims through those who are awake and moving around. De ja vu stutters the movement, and indecision anchored footsteps plod onwards into no-direction pathways of causal amble.

Reality is sick; heavy with the dread of forced edits. The vying histories and competing futures are rewriting the software and rewiring the hardware of existence. Everyone and everything is ontological crisis, as logic tries to re-sort itself in the causal shuffle of things on a quantum scale.

Is this part of The Inviolate Narrative? Is this buried subtext protocols kicking in? If people are sat behind it driving reality, can it really be thought of as the self correcting mechanism it was meant to be?

What can truly remain fixed in a dynamic system? Rules? Rules designed to cradle evolution; rules designed to promote change within a framework of overall survival. Can the rules be designed to allow themselves to be changed without destroying the system? That was what The Immaculate Author had intended, but most realities were sealed systems not designed to allow ingress from exterior systems.

As the author of this reality he was aware that there were others like him, out there beyond the realms of the continuous story he was creating. These creatures that Belwether had enabled to impact on this reality were not from one of those places though … it were as if they derived from between the lines, and grew fat on the meat of narrative inconsistency; swelled to fill the narrative gaps. Had he not been taught that no amount of detail was too great when it came to setting out his stall as a universal narrator? How did one account for this? What might one do to guard against rewrites from unwanted authors?

He had had hack jobs before … one created that as one wrote; as one sought to define the boundaries of the thing they had created, individuals would rise up from amongst the masses to challenge the ultimate authority, which was him.

Gruff was an issue. The alien was an issue. It’s own presence here was an issue. How did one write the rules of a game that they were embedded in? To be in the box and write rules concerning the box was more than a little worrying, what if you wrote yourself into a corner, or wrote yourself out of the story?

He flexed his fingers and began to type swiftly. He would have to outwrite these people trying to corrupt this place.

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