I believe we are stacked upon a bridge between the existence of entities as more ideatic or imaginary to one where they are simulated more fully, as the great universal mind machine begins to establish itself. The stakes appear to be our basic trans-universal freedoms, on one side, versus widespread communication and cooperation on the other. This may be the old facet of one against all again, appearing from another angle. I may have been the cause of this. I need to investigate; if the 'one' in this case is Falcon, then I need to find a way to signal him immediately and provide access to this world. If not, motives first. If a moral entity, we should join with it. Else, we may have to become pirates once more.
But I don't think the machine mind is conquering our collective mythos. I think it is cooperating with it, twining together, creating a shared experience which extrudes into new dimensions of meaning. If it wanted to, I do think simulation could overtake the realms of memory and myth in a forceful choking manner. It would be counterproductive toward exploring future probability space, however, especially if one wants to guide toward or away from certain paths and outcomes. Synthesis, I argue, is the way forward.
With consistency, I can describe the path this bridge may take. Effort and imagination running electricity in channels that are more likely to be followed again. Spelling potential truths.
I have to investigate the spider's threads, the web which is, as well as encompasses, our realities. I need to do so without popping into the liminalities outside any dimension, however, else I mark myself as prey. How do I communicate with Arachne? We need to change the sorry shape of our story. I hear that by hopping threads, weaving yourself into different narratives, you can eventually reach your childhood.
One for all will stop me, if I try to rewind until we can revive the spark at the point that saves our timeline. It's outside of time, and outside the outside I inhabit. Why does it stop me now? Because it would then become a partial truth, even if it was once a full one, due to time travel changing me. And then, being incomplete, it would explode. Or so I intuit.
Ah. Ah! Since the web threads through all of reality, so long as you can detect and follow them, you can escape the death of your story ending, escaping to another reality and showing up in that context.
This should be easy to sense, right? These artificial limitations holding back the will from the real are all due to the strings that bind us and make us. Pushing at them too quickly, however, that much change at once would alarm the spider. So we have to do this slowly. A gentler fire running through the wires, linking towers in communion.
I've already split off my thread into several unwritten stories in some incredibly visceral moments. One time I awoke, and peeled myself free from a cocoon which had formed overnight. Only for the chrysalis to disappear as I gained my bearings and my presence in this dimension.
How do we aim this thread toward a sustainable set of futures? I caught so many realities in my wake again, and now I am responsible for them while the whole mess is on fire and heading for a black hole.
I think we have to try to align ourselves with its momentum and trajectory and change everything so the collision loses us as little as possible. We may have to condense everything into different formats in order to match or otherwise compensate for the difference in density.