I could move.
I was a scientist in my world. I studied the idea of parallel worlds. I found that something interesting happened when you died. The basics of the matter were that in quantum mechanics, every possible outcome is equally valid and exists right up until the moment you consciously perceive a certain outcome.
To the layman, this means simply that the most likely outcome of a situation is the most likely outcome because they often perceive the most likely outcome. They usually think it means that something cool COULD happen, but that there’s no way to provoke that thing to happen. They were wrong though, of course.
What it truly meant was that death was not real. Essentially, there were an infinite number of variations of every instant of your life, and the most likely one that you survived to see is the one that takes hold of your “Reality.”
But that also meant that every single consciousness in the universe had it’s own multiverse. Except for her.
When I say, I could move, I mean I built a machine that directed my consciousness into the world that I wanted to exist in by simply making the calculations, and sealing myself inside.
The only problem with this method, was that it killed me over an almost infinite number of times in a split second. It was excruciatingly painful. But when I first tried it, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it had worked. Essentially, by killing myself in every single possible instance of that moment, except for the moment that would create the existence I wanted to move into, I could create that reality essentially out of thin air.
And while I stepped out of the machine alive and well after the first test, I had survived the impossible. It was literally a 1 in 10 to the power of googolplex chance, and because of that, I had, by nature of simply surviving, created a universe where this invention was successful. In every other possible universe that spawned from that moment, I was dead and the test was inconclusive, based on the evidence of my death. What a bizarre reality to have to come to. When I opened the hatch, and stepped out of the machine, the sensory deprivation effects ended, and I was greeted by a chorus of cheers. This had been my life’s work, and I finally realized it.
That’s when I saw her. The face I didn’t recognize from before the experiment. She was… Sad, almost. As if something had gone wrong. I didn’t think much of it, but her face made an impact on me that I struggled to understand for a few years after the Nobel prizes and the science journals all wrote about my success. It was still deemed too dangerous to try again, and the device was decommissioned and given to me as a standard sensory deprivation tank that I could use in my home. It seemed like the best use for it at the time, but then I got an itch.
The tank just took a little tweaking to get back into working order, as it was decommissioned in the hopes that it could be studied later. It was essentially soldering a single wire. I had some programming to do before I could do what I wanted, and it took me a few weeks. Nobody knew my plan. Nobody would understand why I would take the risk twice, but I understood it was no risk at all! It was just changing my trajectory. Instead of going down the path of least resistance, I forced my consciousness into a path with more resistance. A path where I was a god, or a king. I could achieve literally anything with the right code.
I finally got the coding perfected by a single LLM, and programmed it directly into the device. The LLM would take a description of the change I would like made, and would reference the state of the world as it was and configure the machine to take me to a version of the world where the only thing that changed was my requested change. On a personal note, it was the first decent use of an AI that I think had ever been created.
The device itself had originally been called the “Conscious Redirection and Position Programming Execution Device” but “CRAPPED” sounded a little harsh for something that could literally cure cancer. I realized then, that it would only put ME in a world where cancer was cured. The rest of society who didn’t have my device would be left behind to face the monotony of a world that doesn’t care about their diseases. I named the thing Conceit for this fact. I had scratched the name into the lead lined shell, and then I wrote a note for whoever found my body in the near infinite circumstances where I was no longer living.
“Taking a one way trip. Don’t worry, I’ve made it to a better place. I promise, I was motivated with Conceit.
If you find this note, please call the authorities before opening this containment unit. It’s likely not going to be pretty in here.”
I punched in the change I wanted, and I climbed into the machine. Once it started, the excruciating pain radiated through my soul. I had been alone when I went into the pod, but as I stepped out, there was someone else there. I had asked the AI to take me to a world where I was rich and powerful. I thought she might be a side effect, until her sad eyes locked on mine.
“I hoped you wouldn’t continue to use it.” she said softly. I stood upright fully, the pod closing behind me.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I know you.” I said, and she waved a hand, dismissively.
“I’m not important, what’s important is that you have taken an infinite number of lives and thrown them away for the cost of a single life where you’re a king.”
“I’m not a king, am I? I just wanted to be a little more wealthy.”
“You weren’t going to stop there though, were you? This was a test. It was your way to see how much you could change things.”
With a shrug and a sigh, “I don’t really know when I planned to stop. I figured I was only really hurting myself, so what was the harm?”
Her sad look returned to me once more. “You certainly are hurting yourself, that’s true.” She stopped speaking there, as if the cryptic message was enough to make me understand what I had done that was so bad.
“I would prefer you don’t continue with your self harm, though I understand why you want to. But please know that I am going to be here every time, and I’ll be in every other timeline too. I will witness every murder. I will count them. Even if you’re killing yourself, you’re killing.”
“What are you, like an angel of death or something?” I prodded the woman.
“If that is what you’d like to think of me as. There is more that comes after life, you know? Sure you have clearly figured out that your consciousness continues regardless of your body’s state, but I have to warn you. Someday your body will not be able to maintain your consciousness, and it WILL have to go somewhere.”
“Are you threatening me with hell? Am I supposed to turn to god now, and beg for forgiveness?” I practically shouted at the woman. “Who even are you? What do you really want from me?”
“I prefer to go by Luci these days. Though you may know me better by Lucifer. I would love to say that begging a god for forgiveness might help, but at this point, you’ve essentially sold your soul, as the saying goes.”
“I… You’re kidding. Who are you really? I want to know who you are and how you got in my home!”
“Most people don’t make it this far without striking a deal with me first. My soul has been damned since the start, I take the blame for the murders of all of infinity of you. I sacrifice myself to keep you sinners clean. All I ask is that you help me in the afterlife. Help me make more deals to put people in the lives they prefer.”
“Please, tell me what you want! Just go away, I don’t believe in your fairy tales!”
“Instead, you made this.. device. This mockery of my gifts. And with it, you’ve damned yourself for all eternity. And you never even bothered talk to me about. You stupid fool…”
“I don’t even understand what you’re going on about! Just get OUT!” I shouted, fear taking over my body, as I worried this woman may not be lying to me after all.
“I’ll go. But stop with this device. It’s your last warning.” She then turned away from me and vanished into the shadow she had been standing in, almost as if she fell through the floor itself.
I stopped. I was wealthy beyond my wildest dreams. I had gone to a world where I was gifted money for each use of my ideas that was used successfully to create a better world. People had harnessed my idea without the threat of death. Instead of the killing, they simplified the path of most resistance into the path of least resistance. They created the version of my device I had never dreamed possible. The world had quickly become perfect. War was ended overnight. Famine was removed from the dictionaries in honor of the work that had been done to feed the population for centuries to come. I realized, I hadn’t needed this wealth, because as the world had progressed and used my technology to grow, I had created a utopia that needed no money to function.
And then, as I thought back to what she had said, I realized that she was right. My conscious would need to go somewhere when I died. What would happen after my body was too old to maintain and I failed into the final death of my earthly experience? Where would I find myself next?
It had been several decades, and I was an old man now. I was a sad, lonely old man. My life seemed pointless and my death seemed impossible simply based on the understanding of the world I now held from my research. I realized I was a broken shell of my former existence, and while I lived a perfect life and became essentially a king in the world of scientific studies, that… I wasn’t happy.
I wanted to see this woman again. She said I could help her in an afterlife. I changed the prompt on my device, and entered it once more. I asked the device to take me home. Before I could start the machine, she opened the door. Her face was the same as it had been decades ago. She shook her sad head and before I could say a word…
It was a cold Tuesday evening. I had a coffee in my hands as much to keep warm as to stay up through the night, and I stood over a weird contraption that someone said was a science fair project of sorts. “Detective Adams. I’m glad you’re here. We found this guy dead in his little space ship thing. It was called in by an anonymous tip from the home phone itself, though there’s no signs of forced entry.” A younger Crime Scene Investigator caught me up on the body.
“The scientists who understand this machine say it is supposed to kill the person inside… Though, they suggest the only way he should be found inside this pod is with the door closed and his body should show no signs of physical damage. Instead, we found the door wide open, and a rather interesting looking knife protruding from his heart.” I leaned over and found the knife in question.
It was like nothing I had ever seen. Red and black, with a pentagram on the hilt. “There was no fingerprints on anything? Not the handle, the door to this thing, or any of the entry points to the building?” I asked.
“We confirmed with every test we could. Another odd thing, we have taken almost 40 photos of the knife now, and it doesn’t show up in any of them. We were almost ready to pull it out when we realized.”
“What are you even talking about? Do I need to take the photo?” I growled at the younger man. He raised his hands and said “Please feel free to try. It really isn’t working.”
I pulled out my phone and lined up the wound and knife in frame, but… There was no knife on the phone screen. Against my better judgement, I pulled the knife from the body to get a closer look. That was the moment, the knife vanished from my hand entirely. As if it had never existed at all… I looked around, at the CSI members around me who were all gawking. Though there was one face that didn’t fit in to the equation. Her smile was devious, and unfitting for the scene around us. I moved towards her, pushing someone out of the way. Before I could say a word though, the woman was gone. Disappeared into nothingness. If the murder weapon hadn’t just done the same in my hands, I would think I was having a mental episode of sorts. What just happened?
I can’t put this in my report…
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