In the heart of a dying multiverse, within a void region of a forsaken universe, upon an isolated planet floating a lonely course, was a single man.
Tired of the unrelenting flux of time, the individual stared at the endless beyond with an empty gaze. He had persisted for eons without end, witnessing the birth and death of countless worlds.
Yet, despite all of that, he continued. He theorized, tested, failed, gathered data, then repeated this dreadful cycle until the multiverse itself neared death. All for one cause, all for a single goal.
"I suppose this is it," he spoke, returning his sight to the indescribable amalgamation before him.
Approaching what only he knew to be a machine, the man—whose name was lost even to himself—gained a lifeless smirk.
He had once been human, part of a civilized world. Maybe it was because of this that he delayed his life's work for so long. All so that unnecessary sacrifices could be avoided.
The device, the Root Analysis and Traversing Framework, or "RATF," required a hefty price to be brought to its completion. The consumption of a complete multiverse—that was its cost.
To be exact, it required the multiverse from which a being originated. Since he made it for himself, the cost was his own.
Besides him, not a single living thing was left. Even matter itself was sparse and few in between, excluding this artificial planet and his enhanced body.
Readying its activation, he began to recall the concept behind his masterpiece.
His multiverse, along with every single branch of reality making up the entirety of "existence" and even "non-existence," with everything in between and beyond, traced its origins to a single source, a final "root."
This root was beyond everything, yet part of everything all at once. He had no clue what it was, exactly—no one did—but it "existed" nonetheless.
Imagine the difficulty of creating a device designed to interact with the intangible. A device made to alter it, control it, manipulate it?
Even now he was certain that his success was entirely predetermined by its "will," in whatever shape or form that was.
The RATF, or, to sound better on the tongue, RAFT, was implemented directly onto the "thread" that connected him to the "root."
Thus, it could exert its influence upon him and upon the "root," accomplishing what it was made to do.
THRUM
Space shifted, and time ticked at abnormal rates. The machine was nearly ready, and so too was he.
Within a few moments, it would attach itself to his thread and consume his entire multiverse—using it as fuel for permanent activation.
Would he die? Sure. But that didn't matter when his "essence" still existed, tied to the "root," manipulated by his own creation.
He would continue from then on, persisting in his final goal.
Yes, even this nigh "divine" creation was but a step towards his meaning. He wished to uncover the secrets of the "root," to uncover the truth behind it.
To understand the universe, one must understand its laws, which first require one to understand their world.
He needed to explore the Omniverse, uncover its mysteries, and trace any clue to the smallest speck. RAFT was his "body," thus only now could he begin to understand his "world."
In an instant, all was gone, and so everything turned black.
[Origin Reality Consumed…Synchronization Complete…]
Meaning was transferred into his "consciousness," irrespective of the concept of time. He felt nothing, was awake yet asleep, and dead yet alive, all at once. Simply put, he "existed" in the loosest form possible.
[Beginning Traversal Process…Root Connection Established]
He "knew" the meaning behind all that was revealed to him, yet was simultaneously unknowing, all by virtue of his "loose existence."
[Multiverse Targeted, Root Interference Recognized… Reality Collision Inbound]
He "waited," yet did not. Did his mental perception of time count as time? Was he even perceiving time? Maybe, maybe not. Even he did not know, yet he did, all at once.
[...Origin Thread Aligned…..Beginning Construction Process]
Ah, he recognized this step. He needed a form to exist in wherever he would end up; thus, after aligning his "origin thread" with the target multiverse, he would be granted a form on behalf of the "root."
[Process Complete. Welcome, Host.]
Suddenly, his thoughts turned clear, and an overwhelming flow of "life" seeped into him.
Mono-yellow fluorescent lights buzzed, itching his mind. The ground was relatively moist, its smell stinging the nostrils.
Opening his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of endless partial rooms, each containing nothing but the same repetitive carpet and walls.
'RAFT, where am I?' He questioned mentally.
[Based on my analysis, it appears that this is a known world.]
'A known world?'
That was practically unbelievable.
This was a term he assigned to realities that had been previously thought of or conceived. An example would be a fictional world or an alternate version of another world.
More so, it was assigned this name if he in particular had knowledge of it, whether he remembered it or not.
'Which one?'
[The Backrooms. Threat Level: High]
'Damn it…' He cursed after having the relevant memories brought up with the assistance of RAFT.
Despite his familiarity with the realm, he knew this knowledge would do him no good. There were too many variations of The Backrooms to count, helping cement this fact.
Recalling the threat scale, he felt even worse. A low threat level indicated no immediate danger to his life, while a medium threat level indicated high danger but not immediate, and high meant an immediate threat to his life.
As much as he would like to explore the place and take whatever he could, it was too dangerous for now. He could have sworn he saw a faint silhouette of a black stick figure behind a distant corner.
Immortal as he may be, with RAFT guaranteeing his permanent existence, pain did not discriminate.
Detecting his glance, the shadowed figure turned toward him, its featureless body jerking unnaturally.
He felt a spike of adrenaline, not wanting to wait to confirm what the entity was. With a single order, the buzzing lights and moist ground vanished into darkness.
He was gone.
***
'What a waste.'
RAFT made sure that even when dying, he could always be brought back. However, leaving a reality resulted in a long-lasting incompatibility with the "thread." This meant that he couldn't return until he visited at least three different realities to wipe off the "chaos" attached to his existence and permit re-entry.
Thinking carefully, he felt complicated.
There were quite literally infinite realities, and yet despite that, he was sent to a reality he knew? He didn't know why the root allowed him to know of its existence or why it sent him to a known world, but the fact that it even interacted with him was miraculous enough.
Something was going on.
Of course, it could simply be that it had more in common with basic consciousness principles than he thought and perhaps sought its version of entertainment. Or maybe it knew of his goals and thought it best to send him to worlds he had prior knowledge of.
Regardless, it was certainly interesting, and he would certainly move forward without stop.
[Reality Collision Inbound…Construction Process Complete…]
THRUM!
His senseless state was brought to an end, and a new body was manifested once more.
The first thing he noticed was his smaller form, that of a child. Then, the sounds: voices overlapping in a mixture of chatter, car engines rumbling, and the occasional honk of a horn.
Bright sunlight reflected off glass buildings; the sharp scent of exhaust mingled with the faint aroma of street food.
He blinked, adjusting to the vivid activity around him. Crowds of people bustled past, dressed in bundles of formal attire, uncaring of his presence.
'RAFT, where am I?'
[This is yet another known world, the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.]
'Fascinating,' He thought, the corners of his mouth tugging into a faint smile. His form made more sense now, offering him an ideal path to knowledge.
Though there were other parameters determining the construction process.
'I should be able to make some progress here, unlike before.'
[Threat Level: Low | This appears to be a slightly different reality from those in your memories, containing details never quite revealed. Please do not hesitate to ask for assistance should you need it.
He was thankful to his creation, proud of its usefulness.
This was a welcome start, and he would do well to bank on it.