The mole people may or may not be a joke… and they don't have to be furries, just people who have been living underground for long enough.

The explosion of the warp core of the bulldozer gets directed upwards and outwards with such force that it creates an even bigger crater, but also pushes away the falling debris from the satellites back into space, saving millions of lives.

From the ashes of the bulldozer Hark rises, having gained super powers (what they are is up to Hark) from the warp energy. He must not be particularly happy about the actions Tiberius and Canuovea though…

“What is this?” Mel Gibson was reported to have said, “A British Good Guy with superpowers! That's illegal! Only Americans can be good guys who sacrifice themselves to save millions and gain superpowers! The Filthy Brits can't do that!”

This was, however, seconds before he was attacked and decapitated by a rabid mole person wielding a wild Tuna.

There ya go Hark. Now you've got the advantage!

These mole people may or may not exist and may or may not be furries…
Are these mole people of Schrodinger's cat people?
Fortunately my super powers may or may not allow me to become the mole person Jesus, which may or may not involve turning into a mole person and may or may not be really happening or may or may not be just in my radiation fevered imagination.
In this new religion I may or not have started, Mel Gibson may or may not be the devil.
Though Mel Gibson's racism remains beyond doubt even to possibly hypothetical mole people!

Well, given that Mel Gibson just got decapitated by a wild Tuna wielded by a Mole person… yeah, the Mole people are now officially the real deal.

And I think you just ruined their plans for world domination by preventing the satellite debris of doom from falling on the earth.

But they can't be all that bad because one attacked Mel Gibson…

Tiberius points out that Mel Gibson is Australian, not American, so some of the previous jokes don't make sense. He also asserts that the current Mel Gibson is not the one from the 80's that did Mad Max, it is a different Mel Gibson that is hateful and makes sub par movies.

I'll update the map soon, complete with Gibson corpse, warp crater, and a glowing superpowered hark. he may or may not get a nice hat with his powers which may or may not deal with quantum superposition, and probability.

I arrived at my secret base in a secret area that is impossible to find by any means at your disposal, except maybe just running across it.

From there I get my crew together and Launch my Battle ship (Line of battle Ship= Battle ship, Line of battle star ship= battle star, line of battle airship= battle ship)
I fly my way to the even larger crater, meeting more ships along the way, all armoured, all armed. From about 10 miles away, I begin shelling Hark. I also launch fighters to do strafing runs, and to keep any mole people at bay
is there a way to post files, I can show you a video of the airships. It's a 3d animation i made my self.

Hark tells the theoretical mole person worshippers about how Mel Gibson was born in America, grew up in Austrailia and then moved back to America after becoming famous and is an American citizen.
Tiberius' theory that mel gibson of today is a different and far shittier one (in every way) than the one who made Mad Max one and two is now official canon of the church of the theoretical mole people.
Soon the mole people will rise up and prove their existence (or none existence) to the WORLD!

This is going to get into nature vs. nurture. on one hand, he was born American (nature), but was raised Australian (nurture). Are we talking on legal terms, which would make him american, or cultural terms, which would likely make him more australian, or biological terms, which would make him irish/australian/american?
Let's call him and ask. anyone have his number?

Also, I have your area bugged, and can hear everything you tell the mole people. Remain where you are. the party committee will arrive shortly to pass out “cake”, and “ice cream”.

While the party committee gets to work “partying”, I take the rest of the fleet and occupy the airspace over the hill, with regular air patrols, and a wide perimeter with my flag ship in the center, over the very large crater. Troops are landed and set about using the raised edge of the crater like a premade trench, and fortify them selves in with machine guns, mine fields, mortar emplacements, and the very close air support of the fleet.
The prairie dog corps (a corp. of sentient anthropomorphized prairie dogs) begin tunneling below the crater, making elaborate tunnels, with rooms for supply storage, command, subterranean defense, and any other facilities the army may need on the ground. there is also a 5 star kitchen, and a movie theatre.

from somewhere else an expedition into space is launched to assess the damage, and orbital status of the space arsenal, and whether it can be salvaged, and used to full capacity, or salvaged as a large piece of debris falling on my enemies, either way it's “salvaged”.

Forgot about me?

I'll admit, the fleet was a bit of a shocker. Even I don't have quite that many resources.

However…

The fleet you dispatched to salvage the space debris stops responding and no contact with them is possible.

The communications within your flagship and to the rest of your fleet improve by approximately 10%. The problem with your state of the art energy propulsion system also decreases, leaving the ship functioning far better.

You also lose contact with your Prairie Dog Corp. I fear that may be the Mole People. Never know with those guys, always quick to… undermine… you.

I suggest preparing your ground troops for an assault from below, are they ready for that?

And this appears on your command screens:
This thing all things devours:
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
Gnaws iron, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones to meal;
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats high mountain down

This is not mine, of course, it is Tolkien's, but consider it a suitable warm up.

Or you can just look it up… after all, it doesn't count as my actual riddle because I didn't write it. I'll give a clue… The Hobbit.

Mole people are pretty intellectual (assuming they exist) dealing with issues of psychological issues of nature vs nuture or the possibily of themselves to both exist and not exist (or both…or neither.)
Being their god is pretty freaking boring!
I cant understand a damn thing they talk about.
I need to reattach Mel Gibson's head to a robot body so he can kill them for me.

the answer is time.

We all have our stengths
You have your many bolt holes, and your shrodinger's mole men.
Hark has a mole man cult (with a vast scripture about Mel Gibsons), and super powers that I'm sure are based on the heisenberg uncertainty principal in some way.
I have an empire. with vast resources, access to the top tier technology, and a surprising origin…

I follow Admiral Adama's lead and dismantle computer networks, so that I won't be brought to my knees by computer infiltration, good thing I have analogue back up systems just in case.

Something incredibly fishy is going on. all forces are put on high alert. not “watch for anything suspicious, and be on your toes” alert, I mean “We're probably surrounded in all 3 dimensions” alert. Flame throwers are brought out, shotguns distributed and bayonets are affixed. My ground forces are ready for close quarters warfare. Still… transport helicopters are kept on standby in case of evac.
The prairie dog corps. are fighters, I haven't lost hope on them yet. deep ground penetrating radar is employed to find out what is going on, and thumpers are used to transmit morse code down to the tunnels, to urge any survivors to evacuate to the surface. All prairie dogs are trained in morse code for situations like this.

Canisters, hoses, and pumps are brought down.

I Give an executive order that any observatories capable, to look at where the arsenal was, and report on what is going on in space. Keep in mind, attacking civilian targets like observatories, will be considered a terrorist act, no matter what capacity the civilians were acting in. Your already on thin ice, using a nuclear weapon on a hill, irradiating the landscape.

speaking of radiation, all the radiation is gone by this point. It got destroyed. that is correct, the radiation itself was destroyed in the cross fire. there will never be radiation in this area again, because the massacre is burned into the radiation's racial memory, and so they avoid this place.

The party committee arrives at the mole men cult of hark enclave, and lands. They pass out cake, and ice cream. The cake and ice cream taste like cake and ice cream. It's chocalte cake, and an option of either chocalate, vanilla, or mint ice cream. There's also a Gibson Pinata. A fun time is had by all. The party committee then leaves…

A few calls are made…

bases everywhere, including the non-secret ones, are put on alert as well.

A manhunt for Conuovea is begun, with a reward for any help that leads to your location.

Anti-missile defenses are installed to bolster the already capable defensive screen provided by the airships. this includes the systems for detecting missiles from 100 miles away, to the systems for shooting them down. Some of the mid range detectors work on visual identification, so they can still spot stealth missiles approaching. these systems were already on the airships.

I'll update the map when there's more to be seen. right now it's just one large crater, and a Mel Gibson corpse. The other craters, and tunnels were erased/collapsed by the warp core breach.

Do you know why we fight over this area?

I do. There is something there.

What is it?

It's an answer. Only me and my people know what that answer is, and it's not something we can tell you. can't be tortured out of us, or mind read from us. you can only learn, by controlling what was the hill.

You may have been attracted here by the geological surveys that showed that there was no way the land could be the way it was, or maybe it was the stories of the strange occurrences. what ever your reason, We're here, and we fight…





there now we have a reason for why we're fighting over an ex-hill

Analogue backup systems will not change anything. This is not a computer based attack.

The only thing that could help you here is the bayonets.

I never have been one for targeting civilians. You are the one using them for non-civilian purposes, but I don't mind at the moment.

The warp Bulldozer core overload must have done something to that radiation then…

“Can” “Canuovea.” Not Conuovea. I'm not a simple Con man! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! It's a pun, get it?

Time is indeed the answer. And I am running out of it, it seems.

I came over to ruin the party. I like twisting rules and expectations. I only targeted the hill to change the game up a little bit, I intended to withdraw immediately afterwards but you forced my hand. The closer to finding me you come, the more you force it. It is pretty forced right now. Can-u force my hand more? HA! Another pun(ish)! Oh, dear me, I'm on a roll.

“I see nothing. But I do see you when you see me. What am I?”
Another warm up. Enjoy.

a mirror.

with no survivors coming out, I am left with the difficult choice of clearing the tunnels.

Hoses are put down every tunnel entrance, and sealed. The pumps are activated, and a mixture of multiple types of nerve gas+mustard gas are pumped into the tunnels. it will spread, and fill every part of the tunnel, and then fill any tunnels connecting it, seeping in through even tiny cracks. this effectively kills off everything below ground. everything.

Since the observatories have no answer for me (you would have told me if they did), It looks like I have an invisible menace above me.

I don't like this, so I'm accelerating my time schedule.

I send the backup group of prairie dogs down to finish what needs to be done. They are equipped with NBC suits, shotguns, flame throwers, melee weapons of various sorts, and an armed guard especially trained to deal with unknown threats underground. I also send with them unjammable communications equipment, and another little secret that not even death can stop from reporting in.
this group effectively counters any threat down there, that wasn't killed off by the ultra-gassing, and the diggers get to work.

more equipment is unloaded and prepared. the area is abuzz with activity.

A spy hunt is put underway as possible fix for the odd problems. An exorcism is also performed on all ships.

the manhunt is getting closer to can's location, soon He'll be found.

Well done. Not a whole lot to go on for that riddle, but fairly obvious. Mirror is correct.

Found? Hah! Found… You'll see found soon enough.

Exorcism? Really? I'm not the possession type.

You are in the command section of your flagship, if you were not there before you find yourself there now. The consoles go dead and communication with the outside world ceases.

I walk into the room, right hand with a fashionable little cane topped with a lovely little handle. Left hand holding a cup of tea.

“Lovely day.” I say.

Your obviously competent guards open fire with shotguns and assault weaponry, but to no effect. “Stop it before ricochet kills someone.” They do stop firing but commence staring. "Problem with some people is that they take orders too well.“ I chuckle and have another sip of tea.

”You must be curious about what has happened to your ship, no worries. It can be returned to normal quite quickly. We are no longer where you were though. Or, precisely, when you were.“ Another sip.

”Actually, the only space aware of what is going on right now is, well, this room. But don't worry, I will be quite happy to return all to normal, at my own pace of course. Yes, soon your pilots and soldiers and… well, whatever you want to call them, the digging things, will be able to go home all warm and… uh, fuzzy, inside.“

”It is really all up to you, sir Tiberius. You may have an Empire out there, but in here you are just a man. All you have here are your wits and your will, and they will set you free.“ Tea again.

”I give my solemn word, should you pass my tests I will even the playing field… considerably. Answer me these three riddles, for this is when it really counts.“

”First one:

I travel a never ending journey,
Walls stop me flowing freely,
When walls are broken I will depart,
And can hurt the weak of heart.

“I am quite fond of… wordplay. I would say that is the correct word. But since this is more than mathematics… I give you three chances for each question, and a clue or two on request. If you need it.”

A smile slowly forms on my muzzle, and a few of the body guards chuckle. I surge forward, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, and shove us through the wall, with inhuman strength and agility.

You look back, there is no hole. there is no wall, and I'm not where I was. everything is white space.

from behind you you hear in a perfectly calm voice “The answer is blood, Mr. Canuovea…” You turn to face the new threat, reeling at your sudden lack of control in the situation. You see a white furred wolf, that is obviously the same one that just shoved you through a wall, but now I'm in a black suit, tie, and sunglasses, with an earpiece. “We've been searching for you Mr. Canuovea. You don't know why we've been searching, though you may begin to have an idea.” I press against the ear piece, and say “finish the work, I'll call if there is any trouble” I turn back to you “When I said unbreakable, and unjammable communication, I meant it, Mr. Canuovea. I'm sure you have questions, so feel free to ask. Do not worry I will solve your riddles. I could leave another way, but that way… would be uncomfortable to say he least. Solving your riddles will suit my plans much better. Come have a seat.” a series of different tables with matching chairs zoom by between us, stopping at a metal table with a mosaic of the world in the center. There are two chairs on opposite sides, and a third chair on another side. the other tables zoom away, and are gone. “You should know that we are both trapped here, me until I answer your riddles, and you until I go. there's no way around this, and there's not much else to do here, but talk.”


mean while

Hark may notice a sudden alarm over at my area, but it quickly subsides, and work continues. Some sort of generators are being installed on the edges of the crater. Heavy equipment, and parts are being sent down to the tunnels.
in the center of the crater there is an area blocked off, and guarded by more men in black suits, ties, sunglasses, and an ear piece. Suddenly a pure black box appears in the center. It's black surface showing no details, light seems to not affect it. The men in black begin putting cables into it, tho there don't seem to be ports, or any sort of point on the cube that is not perfectly flat, and smooth. the cables just seem to go in.
as the last of the cables are plugged in, a klaxon sounds, and you see all patrolling aircraft return to their ships, and all but the flag ship moving away from the crater, having already taken up the ground forces. all that remains on the crater are the men in black, and the flag ship low overhead. As soon as all forces, but those remaining leave, the klaxon ceases.

A humming is heard, and felt all around. everything seems slowed down, except at the crater. It feels as if all the energy that should be there isn't, not like your tired, but that the energy has been relocated.
The space around the crater distorts. The earth shakes. The humming is in everything, and as it reaches it's climax, the crater disappears. an all that remains is a perfect indentation of a sphere where the crater was. It's like a piece of the world was simply removed.
in the distance is a dust cloud, made by a black SUV headed your way.


(note, I was already planning to do this eventually, but I wasn't expecting it so soon.)
(2nd note, Now's a good time to mention that all my forces are anthro's of some sort, majority wolves, because that's how I roll.)

“Very well done. Blood is the answer.” I reply quite unfazed, though I was surprised for a moment, not out of fear though, I am more impressed than anything else. “Hurt the weak of heart, ha! Get it?”

“Ahem.”

“Now,” I sit, “this is really quite excellent. Though, I'm afraid that you cannot leave any more than I can. And we shall talk, it is an important component of reason.”

I drum my fingers on the table. “Keeping with the theme of three, I have three questions.” Oddly I've still got my tea. “Well, to begin with anyway. And I am certain you have your own, Sir Tiberius. Ask and I will answer.” Sip. “Ah, delectable.”

“But first, my next riddle:

I live less then a second,
Gods to me have beckoned,
Strong is my glorious song,
desperate, loud and long.

Surely this one should be easy.”

“And the first of my questions to you: Who are you?”

There are other beings busy observing the situation, though nobody can see them at this time. I am also aware of the third chair, but am unconcerned at the moment.

(note: I am quite human in appearance)

it might be a couple of days til i answer. I need to focus on finishing my senior speech for school

Okay, that's fine, I've been busy recently and its been some time between my answers too. There is no rush!

Thanks for letting us know that you're alive though. And I hope the speech goes well.

I've got an answer for your riddle….
MOLE PEOPLE HOLY WAR!!!

ATTACK!
ATTACK MY SQUINTY EYED, FURRY, POSSIBLY NON-EXISTANT LEGIONS!
BRING ME THE HEAD OF THE DESPICABLE ONES!

NO, not Mel Gibson, we already killed him!
Canuovea and Tiberius!
THEY MUST BE DESTROYED!

Hark, you notice that as soon as you blinked the massive hole in the ground was seemingly filled in and is now completely flat ground.

You also notice that your holy war is going awry. It has an over abundance of holy, but a lack of war. Your mole men seem to have gained an interest in peaceful protest. Apparently there was much talk about Ghandi at the party. Also the cake, and ice cream may have been laced with a drug that inhibits aggression.
They've started passing a petition around. It has a very reasonable list of grievances, and a large amount of signatures. they want you to sign it too, and to visit their website where you can sign up for the news letter.

back to the white space.

“Belief, or faith is my guess.” I say after what seemed to be days of thinking

I continue “I am Agent Tiberius, But I suspect that is not what you are asking. We are the Templars of ”reality“. We guard the integrity of all you see. Without us, society would have collapsed by now. We know, and guard secrets that no-one, but the few can know, for the good of the many. In days past we could afford more subtlety, but something recently disrupted the world, and we've had to be more active. To this end I was put in charge of forming a force to prevent the control of the ”hill“ by any other party. it's not the hill itself that's important. It is the relative point in space that it occupies that is important. It is secure now. My task force has successfully extracted that part of space itself to another area. We don't usually alter the mesh of space so drastically, but in this case, it was required.
There is much to tell. Our history, our motives, and of course the obvious question, that you might think you know the answer to, but you'll be surprised at how close, but wrong you are.
please take as much time as you like with your next riddle. In the mean time feel free to ask any question, but let us save the ultimate question for last. Not all the people needed are here, but they should arrive soon enough.”

I reach my hand out and it disappears into the white. When I pull my hand back out, I'm holding a mug full of coffee.

(you are going to love the next few parts, trust me. I have a good story lined up.)

“Faith… Hmm. I do like the answer, but it is not what I had in mind. Something a little more literal. Well a lot more literal, quite physical in fact. Though I wouldn't quite say it literally ”lives“ per se… Have another go.

”You are correct that I was not looking for a name. Names are given things, not quite our own. Except when we choose them ourselves.“

”My next question was to be ‘what do you want?’ But you have answered that already. As well as, ironically, the first question. You are, I believe, an, heh, agent. Agent of Order, as it were. I am not. Hercules and the Hydra, you are Hercules, those who strive for order and a measure of control, and in a constant battle to establish and maintain it against the… call them the hydra, things that work to destroy order. Metaphors work in this case.“

”I am not actually opposed to this. Not entirely. I would not call myself an agent of Chaos. I don't really think like that. I am more an… oh, agent of… no, not agent, I don't work for it. Uh… Guarantor of choice and spirit. Guardian of, that works better. I am the antithesis of forced control. I'll tell you exactly what I am doing here… once you get the riddle right.“

”But yes, I do wish to continue the discussion. Here is the next question: ‘why?’ What are your motives, yes, but also why they are important to you? Why do YOU do what you are doing?“

”Depending on the answer I may be willing to help you with this disruption of yours."

(I look forward to the next section quite eagerly!)

I smile, and chuckle a bit “An agent of order. That is the most cliche'd answer you could have come up with. We are far from agents of order, we have been known to start a revolution or two. There was a notable time approximately a couple of centuries ago when we had a minor civil war in the ranks. one side supported monarchs for the future, the other republics. The side of the republics decided to prove their point by starting an experiment, the opposition thought it too dangerous and wished to stop the experiment from beginning.” I sip my coffee. “Agent Cornwallis was almost successfull in stopping the experiment, but Agent Washington was able to get support from the french groups, and the rest is history.” I take another sip of coffee.

“My motives are the preservation, or reality. It's pretty self explanatory why that is important. We have gotten quite adept at it too over the past millennium, though we've never had to act this drastically. God is quite strained at this point, but repairs are already underway. You haven't noticed alot of the problems with the world, because as far as everyone knows they were always there. For example. can you tell me when the species of anthro pairie dogs came into being, or the wolves and mole men? The mole men are a prime example. They exist and don't exist at the same time, and yet no-one bats an eye at this paradox. Some of them have solidified by now, but many of them are still in quantum superposition. I doubt you can help fix the problem. If you could, you would know what it was. what was causing it. though perhaps after you learn you could do something.” I drink from my coffee some more “also I believe the answer at this point to be the Higgs Boson; AKA the god particle. I have a question for you. Who are you, and how did you gain your ‘powers’?”

(ooc; I just had an Idea. I've already got a bunch of background planned for the world, everyone involved seems to have enthusiasm for this world. when/if this game ends we can start a forum based role playing game based in the world. I have some GMing experience. just tell me in parentheses what you think of the idea.)

“You misunderstand. Being agents of order does not preclude starting revolutions, so long as you and your group still… keep things in hand. Preservation is Order, and Stagnation. Your group tries to adapt, but you still run things. As far as cliches go… well yes, you would be surprised how much comes down to cliches sometimes.”

The teacup disappears.

“Why do you do this? Why not let reality collapse? Some would say that if it cannot stand on its own then it should not stand at all. Do you have an active adversary? Another sentient attempting to undo your… ahem… the universe? Or do you simply act to preserve? Stop the wear of natural processes? Either way, still an agent of order.”

“You also decide what form of government people have. Why not let them choose? What makes you so right, so important, that you get to decide? Whence comes your authority? Do you receive it or take it?”

“Who are you? What do you want? And Why? Are all the same question in the end. Why you do things determines who you are and what you want, and the same for the others.”

“The answer to the riddle is a natural phenomenon that people see from time to time. It has been attributed to (certain) gods, simply because of it's power and majesty. So it is not a Higgs Boson.”

“Who am I? I've told you what, well, to a degree, what I am. Who I am is an entirely different matter. I am a person who believes in choice.”

“As for my powers… powers… not so simple. Everything I have done so far has been done with the aid of a kind of technology. I am, very purposely, not using my ‘powers’ because that would completely undermine my purpose for being here. Well, at the moment. I can do what I can do because, simply, one day I realized that I could.”

I smile. “Oh, alright. I'll tell you anyway. My reasons for being here are far more interesting than my own person. Particularly for you. My first objective in coming here was to determine if this reality, or world rather,… oh, what is the proper word? Desires. That would be correct. Desires my, uh, guarantee. Or protection if you will. Not protection from itself, I'll leave that up to you, but… There are outside threats, mainly my opposite. I prefer individual choice, he prefers control. I prefer… freedom of choice and slavery of responsibility. He prefers freedom from choice and slavery of will.”

“My second objective? I am looking for somebody's creature, with the goal of putting it down. But that is a personal matter that, so far, shouldn't involve you. And hopefully will not. But if it does show up… well, you are having trouble maintaining reality as is. With that thing running around it would cause some further problems.”

“As for me helping you, tell me what the problem is. I'm not omniscient.”

(Interesting idea. I have always loved backstory! I would be willing to give it a shot, but I do not know how much time I have on my hands. And while I'm at it, Hark, the uh, whole religious holy war thing? I should have figured you have some KITW in you!)

I pull a gun from the white, and place it on the table.
“shoot yourself. fatally.” I look you in the eyes “You won't do it. your too fond of being alive. We, and everyone in the world is fond of not just being alive, but of existing. asking why keeping reality from collapsing is important is like asking why you must breathe.”

“We don't force our will. the few revolutions we did start were likely to occur anyway, we just made them happen sooner, and may have helped with their success. We don't do this for power. We don't run things like a shadow government. We don't dislike people having choice. We just dislike not existing.”

“Throughout history you would be amazed how often civilization could have ended. At least at three different points the world could have been wiped out by plague. At one point everything could have been set back to bronze age at best due to the mongol hoards. And of course there was every single day of the cold war. We Helped stop all of those. Most realities aren't so lucky, especially with the cold war. Our world is in a small group that encompasses only 7% of 32% of the original total. All of the other surviving worlds have a group like ours. If your looking for agents of order, then look to 137, the group there is still stuck in the medieval ages, with a strict global totalitarian regime.”

“When I get to the rather large answer, I believe you will have some more insight on your powers. You want to protect the world from an outside threat? I swear to you it is not as outside as you think. Almost all threats we face are internal. The current predicament originated from the outside, there's not much you can do about the weather. And weather is the only threat from the outside we've faced, just never this bad.”

“Now, on to a very important matter. This creature you mention, and your ”opposite“. the fact that such a creature that can cause such problems exists without our knowledge is very troubling. We will require more information on this creature. origins, properties, abilities, where it might be that sort of thing. If it is as you say something we should leave to you, then we will, but we would rather know just the same. If it is deemed necessary, we may lend you aid in that quest. also, we need information on this opposite. It is likely both the creature and this opposite were birthed by the outbreak of anomalies. Doppelgangers have been reported. We had to take out an opposite of Prime Minister Putin. He was a fanatical anarchist, with codes to Russia's nuclear arsenal.”

I sip my coffee.
“If you are not going to use that gun, please toss it to the side”

(my new goal is for this game to go over 111 posts, that way we'll have the largest topic on the forum, currently “Golta” has the most. We already have the most on Random nonsense.)

“I am fond of being alive? Yes. But at the same time it hardly matters.” I leave the gun on the table. “It would not actually hurt me, unless I really willed it… and even then the situation would not be… permantent. Just terribly, terribly uncomfortable. And that would give me away.”

“You do not force your will? You forced your will on the Mongols, did you not? What of the cold war, how did you act there? You must have been subverting choice at each of these opportunities. But I think I understand. You work for survival. You are more desperate than dictatorial. Good. You do have your own ideals though, which you attempt to channel into others. Progress? Back to the Bronze Age? Why not go back to the Bronze age? Think about it. Why not allow the cold war to escalate? Perhaps the survivors of the world would learn something, like responsibility for their actions!”

“But we all have our own choices to make, I suppose. I do intervene from time to time, so I think I can understand that. It would be hypocritical of me to give choices to others, but leave none for myself.”

“But beware calling it Civilization. The plural form is recommended.”

“This threat is from outside. My opposite is… not your concern now. My decision has been made. Perhaps I can negotiate with him. I am sure he will find 137 to his liking.” I grin. “Little would change there, probably. And no, my opposite was not birthed by the anomalies. Though perhaps the creature got here through them… I don't know. And my opposite is not a simple doppelganger, doesn't look a thing like me. I call him my opposite because our philosophies are completely opposing.

”The creature is an entirely different matter. Let me explain… There are four of us, three you need to be concerned about. One is myself, one my opposite, the other is… is… insanity. I am for choice. The third one is for nothing other then it's own gratification. A veritable monster, but with incredible power and will, and vanity to match. It is the worst of us. Thankfully, this is one of the few things my opposite and I agree on. We have it nice and locked away, far beyond your reach. Unfortunately, we are not entirely beyond its. Now and again it spawns these things… They act partially on their own, like hunting hounds, but it also controls them. It is paradoxical. It can also feel what they feel, if it desires. I do not know what this one will look like, as each is different, but they usually share a certain similarity. A kind of wail they unleash, before or after attacking. They are also extremely difficult to find if they wish to not be found.“

I smile. ”But I know one is here. Somewhere. And I will find it.“ I pick up the gun, crush it in my hand and discard the pieces. ”If you do come across it though, do not attempt to engage it with ranged weaponry. If you must fight it, attempt to hit the more fleshy bits and avoid the armour. And beware, it has more ways to attack you than it appears. And none of these fancy tricks like white space, stasis, etc, will effect it. If it decides to kill you it will chase you until you are dead or something else piques its interest. Ironically it is best if it does not change target, well, if you care for your fellow sentients. The good news is that if you do see it then it is pretty obvious what it is. Boot boy and his ilk have no sense of subtlety.“

”But we need to focus on one problem at a time. The riddle. You have answered plenty of questions as is, and already, technically, three riddles. I know what I wished to know. And, well, would you like to know the answer to the last riddle I asked? Or wish to keep on guessing? We have all the time in the… world.“

There is a beeping sound.

”Oh, one minute.“ I pause and tap the walking stick I am carrying. ”Calthorne? Is that you boy? Where is… yes… fair enough. Tell her to tell Zerus my response… what do you mean?… oh, right, yes… silly of me. My response is he can go stuff it, but that there is another place his master can have… yes, without my resistance… nothing special at all… they have it coming… yes… that one… no, I shouldn't need any help… very well.“

I look back at you. ”Sorry about that. They were demanding an answer."

(It's here, the big reveal!)

I put a finger to my ear piece, and nod in unknown agreement nod

“I mean no offense when I tell you you are deluded. But maybe all will become clear when I explain the severity of the matters… fully. Your opposite will not be able to find simulation 137 to his liking, because he can't get there. to get there you would have walk across thousands of miles of land, and travel across an ocean. all of which is impossible to do with out a body. Come I will show you.”

I stand up and the table disappears with the chairs, I assume you have good reflexes and refrain from falling. A screen appears in the air. on the screen is the ruins of a compound, and an endless wasteland.

“That is the real world”. The screen changes to an interior shot, that is dimly lit. Shapes move in the darkness. there humanoid in shape, but are obviously metallic. “Those are maintenance droids, there busy cleaning up all the dust that got in after the storm. Usually in the event of a storm the facility seals itself shut, but a motor burned out and a vent was left open, and got in the systems. much of the damage has been repaired, so there are far less anomalies to deal with then there were a week ago.” the screen changes again and it is obviously a view of earth from space. The earth's oceans remain blue, but the land has no signs of greenery, it is mostly grays, whites, and browns. “Do you still think letting the cold war end differently is a good idea? There are no survivors on earth, the closest thing to survivors are us, and the 21 other simulations remaining from the original 1000. We are simulation 013.”

the screen turns to static.

“I will give you the short version of the history of the simulations. At the height of the cold war, the real one, the international community conceived a plan to learn the probable outcome of the rivalry between east, and west. 1000 simulations would be made of the world. the simulations would each start at the dawn of the human race. Important historical events, and times were made to occur, but other then that the simulation could differ from the real events. Once the simulations reached their cold wars, the world would watch with anxiety as simulations ended in nuclear war, and they would be tallied up against those that survived like a score for the hope of humanity. That was the plan anyway. around the time the simulations were in the medieval ages, the war began, and ended. that wasteland is what remained. the Survivors did learn something, but none are left alive on earth to make use of this new knowledge.”

The screen shows image after image of destroyed towns, and failed attempts at resettlement. skeletons are seen laying about, some bent over in hunger pains, others in beds on stained sheets. some just laying about, or blown apart.

“in the war 68% of the simulation facilities were destroyed, or damaged beyond hope”

The screen begins showing similar facilities all in ruins with computer parts broken and strewn about.

“of those 320 left, at this point only 7% of them remain for a remaining total of 22. we are able to communicate with these other simulations, but because of how the simulations were set up to limit contamination, the links are analogue, and closed circuit there is no travel between simulations, it is a literal impossibility.”

“In short. The world is a simulation to determine how likely it is the world will end. the simulation became superfluous when the likelihood became 100%. There are no real humans left on earth.”

the screen goes to static.

“Now for the history of 013. after the war, the scientists, and programmers left alive, safely in the facility got in contact with the rest of the surviving facilities. In this congress a plan was formed. They knew they would die soon enough, so they worked towards preserving something of humanity. They contacted some of the residents of the simulations, and told them what was going on. it took awhile obviously, since the residents had never heard of guns, let alone nuclear war. after the explanation was done organizations were formed in every simulation. in ours it is the Knights Templar. Every group formed it's own idea of what to do and how to preserve themselves. 137 Decided to solidify it's world, and make it as eternal as stone, but just as stagnant, and immobile. We had a different plan. We decided that survival was not enough, we needed to live. It may not be as stable this way, but we thrive this way. progress is all we have left beside survival.”

the screen shows video of pilgrims traveling guarded by knights.

“Originally our plan was to promote religion, by ensuring safe passage for pilgrims. We promoted trade this way, and the intermixing of cultures. It was good for awhile, We expanded, and recruited people who were not ware of the world's nature to fill the lower ranks. Unfortunately these new recruits were corrupt, and wanted money. We saw the problem too late, and the crusades began.”

The screen shows the slaughter of Jerusalem.

“We continued to promote religion, as it is a grand thing when not corrupted by greed, and hate. We focused our efforts to quelling anomalies that came up due to damage sustained in the war. That is where tales of knights fighting dragon's and various other mythical creatures come from. We would step in when needed. We saved the world from from being wiped out by the plague by promoting study of it, and the development of quarantine procedures. We stopped the mongol hoard from it's endless laughter, though we were too late to stop them from decimating the Arabic world. We save civilization, and don't split hairs about plurals, and the thanks we get is accusations of forcing our will on others. I hope you begin to realize how unfair you've been. there's a lot of other history, but I'll fast forward to our cold war. How did we stop it?”

The screen shows a series of peace talks.

“We promoted diplomacy, and communication.” You notice me glare and shake my head at you for a moment.

The screen switches to showing views of an earth not ravaged by nuclear war.

“your definition of subverting choice is incredibly loose. According to you simply influencing someone in some way subverted their choice. And somehow it is automatically wrong. consider this. What would have happened if the allies never subverted the choices of Hitler. Sorry to invoke Godwin's law, but there's a reason Hitler get's referred to so much. We could have let chance decide how the cold war ended, but that would be the same as playing Russian roulette, a game you only play if you want to die. We're part of this world too, and to not act would be the same as too commit the crime ourselves.”

The screen goes to static

“It sounds like if you were in charge then there would likely be one less simulation left. Good thing your not in charge or you could have 6 billion lives on your conscience. Also, the one you mentioned you had locked away, insanity, thanks for answering a question we've been trying to figure out. You may not have realized it, but you put it in the quarantine of the anti-virus program. We've been trying to figure out what it was, and how it got there. This also explains why it's been shouting your name over and over. It may not have been the recent anomalies that spawned you four, and your powers, but they are an anomaly of some sort, and we need to know more about that.”

the screen disappears for now

“You must understand, there is no part of reality that is out of our reach, we just need the proper warrants for some places. For example, we're in heaven right now.”

“Ah. That sneaky bastard.”

I sigh.

“You know what the moral of the story here is? Watch where you're going or you might end up in a computer program. It also explains why I am having so much trouble finding that thing. Either you are right and I am entirely deluded, which is the preferred situation, or you are in a good deal of trouble.”

I sit back, in mid air, and let out a breath.

“And the answer to that riddle was ”Lightning“, it lives less then a second, there were gods who used it specifically, like Zeus and Thor, and the Thunder that comes after it is loud and long.”

I smile.

“I suppose me using that nuclear device was a little bit… well, of a low blow then, so to speak. Heh.”

“Now, however, I understand. I have been unfair, but only to a degree. And your Hitler example is flawed. The choice to subvert choice is a choice. And a conflict is inevitable. You are nothing like my adversary, however. He has a much more permanent method of eliminating choice, it is impossible to choose against his will. You understand programming, obviously, he reprograms people. Then again, I may be being delusional, right? Oh, that would be so very relieving!”

I frown. “But if I am not… my very presence here could be contributing to your problems. If I am not delusional, and I stay… more problems may persist, though for now my arrival has been controlled, especially with me here. If I am not delusional and I leave then that thing is left here to do as it pleases, which is even worse. If I am delusional, and I am imagining this… then the creature does not exist. Or it only exists because I have changed the system.”

Your Anthropomorphic Prairie Dogs are dying, but one makes it back to the surface. It is heavily wounded and barely conscious.

I tap the top of my cane again. “Calthorne, are you there?… I fear I may either be insane or I may have overshot a tiny bit… Not funny… Not at all. I have one order. Retract and watch. If that thing appears, bring in the troops and kill it. Kill it good. I wanted to have this one, but I fear it isn't going to happen… Off.”

I look at you. “I have one final riddle for you. I intended a different one, but the way things are going this is better.”

“Hear me you may cry,
See me you may die,
Many say they search for me,
Most of them never see,
Others wish me ever unseen,
I am all that has ever been.”

“I suggest you monitor the surface of the real planet for a time. Just in case I am not delusional.”

I stand up and pull a long thin sword from the cane. “This is a weapon of elimination. If I can be killed, this will do it. I mean that, if I am some kind of computer program, I will not be ending up in this heaven of yours, or any other one. I will entirely cease to be. And so will this sword… and that thing running around down there. Then again, it will be almost impossible for you to tell if I was right or you were.” I smile. “How much do I truly love life Mr. Tiberius?”

I turn the sword on myself and it slides easily through the heart. I grimace. “Oh, I hate this part.” I completely disappear, along with the sword and any evidence of me. Instantly.

(I knew I should have guessed lightning, but it seemed to obvious. grrr. good riddle)

I blink for a few moments.

“What an odd day I'm having. I'll have to give that riddle some thought, but now…” I go back to the bridge of my ship.“

”report.“

”the anomalous area has been relocated. We've been hearing garbled chatter, and mixed reports from the tunnels. one of the diggers has resurfaced.“

”good. Get that digger medical care, but make sure he can answer questions. Also, call outwatch and tell them to watch for anything strange on the surface. it's probably nothing but the delusions of a super powered mad man, but there was confirmed truth in some of his stories, so let's be sure. I'm assuming there already looking into the thing in quarantine more deeply after that dialogue?

“yes sir. I was told to inform you that it is now laughing nonstop.”

“That's troubling.”

with that I go to question the digger.

(I was trying to not make the riddle too complex. I have worse ones. If you think something is obvious here, it is worth a guess).

You are going to question the digger. Here is the story it relates to you.

“At first we… weren't sure what had gotten the other group that went down. But as soon as we were unable to contact the surface… something started… singing over the radio. It was… it was… well… I still remember.”

“Cold be hand and heart and bone,
and cold be sleep under stone:
never more to wake on stony bed,
never, til the Sun fails and the Moon is dead.
In the black wind the stars shall die,
and still on gold here let them lie,
till the dark lord lifts his hand
over dead sea and withered land.” (JRR Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring)

“Over and over again. We wanted to shut the radios off, but we didn't at first. We had to keep going down, and other than the singing there was no evidence of anything having been there. We finally shut the radios off, but the singing continued. At first we thought that the creature must be nearby, but sound was still coming through the radios. We smashed the radio sets and tried to leave the sound behind, but it kept coming.”

The digger covers its ears. “Then one of us, I forget who, broke and ran.” He sobs. “We heard an… a… it was like… a wail. It was long, loud, and… and… it stopped. And we didn't know what to do. Then we realized that the singing had stopped too. And… Then it started again, but the same line, over and over again.”

“Can you run a little faster?”

“We thought that the gas had to have killed everything down there. We figured out we were wrong pretty quickly. But we refused to run. We found sold stone and hollowed out a defensive position, we tried to contact the surface, but something was preventing it. But… we seemed to anger it when we stopped running. We heard the wail and it came right at our defenses.”

There are a couple minutes when it is not possible to get more out of the digger. Then it continues. “It was dark enough to make seeing it well difficult, but what I do remember is that there were these shimmering crimson holes all over its body. And things came out of them! I… It makes no sense. Believe me! Things came out of the holes! It was as if they were snakes without bone, only muscle… and… I… there was a different type of animal head at the end of each limb! And the whole thing, it was just massive.”

The digger composes itself. “Fire didn't hurt it, bullets seemed to have no effect. And… and… we filled the room with gas and retreated. Then we made the place explode by igniting the gas. But we could still hear the wailing! And… when we tried to head for the surface it pursued. We turned to fight again, but our weapons were almost useless. The only thing that seemed to be more effective was getting in close and cutting at it with our close quarters short swords.” (For tunnel fighting there is little better close combat weapon than a good Gladius or short sword. Easy to maneuver).

The digger shrugged. “I only say more effective because it seemed more cautious than when we had used our other weapons, I don't think we really hurt it. It just… tore us to pieces. We decided that someone had to get back to the surface. We all went off in different directions, thinking that it could not get us all. If I am the only one to come back then we were wrong.”

It coughs up some blood, though its condition is stable. “It grabbed me, attacked me, but refused to kill me. It let me go. Why did it do that? I don't know. I do know that it continued to talk after it let me go. I could hear it. It said that my… my comrades… they were devoured by it… body and soul. And that they were its forever… and they would never see heaven. Even… even our heaven. It said that.”

The digger starts crying. “It said it would come back for me, when it could. It is going to get me!”

(It did stop all the communication and transmission equipment… but not by jamming it… and this was more then death which stopped them from showing up in “Heaven” it was complete annihilation).