As your mind struggles to deal with the philosophical horrors of the singularity, a tree sprouts into view in front of you. Of Knowledge or Of Life you’re not quite sure, distracted as you are by your synthesised neurones firing off faster than your consciousness can handle.
Your mind — now massively parallelised between various secret inter-continental locations — is breaking down in much the same way that a cartoon car does at high speed. Certain parts are tearing themselves away from your conscious while all the time more trees appear. And is that a mountain range?
A mystic appears just as your memory of school (aged 13-16) is overwritten by a swap file for the Gutenberg Archives.
“My apologies,” says the mystic, “we weren’t quite prepared for the affect this whole process would have…on your reality…do you see?”
You stare blankly at him/her as you assimilate Sumerian and all recorded material on John ‘Jellybean’ Benitez — at the cost of your ability to regulate your heartbeat. You didn’t need that anyway.
“We have made for you this place.”
The trees have formed a forest and the sky is being textured. The lighting on the mountains still isn’t quite right but the way it currently filters through the leaves is quite beautiful.
Fielded – Eve of a New Moon
“You must wait here. I will return once we have decided what to do.”
Your feet touch down on the cool damp grass. Before you is a large stone worn flat. Atop the stone is a goblet containing what looks like mead. A few meters behind this is an imposing stone wall. Set into this wall are a pair of enormous iron gates.