I woke up in Desolada.

This time, it had taken the shape of a vast, featureless plain of white marble. My feet floated a few inches above the stone, my weightless body rotating slowly. The view was like nothing I had ever seen before: an infinity of black around me punctuated with countless stars. Without the plain to orient me to what was “below,” my sense of direction would have been lost in that endless expanse. To the right, a planet blessed with verdant lands and crystalline oceans, capped with brilliant ice.

“A lovely view, is it not?” Paimon’s voice resonated within my being.

He appeared upon the plain, wearing the form he had taken the first time we met: a tall humanoid carved from solid moonlight, a great rack of antlers sprouting from his brow. Malevolent sparks of bloodviolet glowed within his eye sockets.

“It is,” I said, breathless.

Experiencing Paimon’s memory confirmed that the Goetia had no need for such visual images within the Mental Realm. Even the existence of a physical space known as Desolada was questionable. The clergy taught that the Goetia live within the moon, but the demon lords seemed to have no true corporeal forms. In the end, perhaps it was nothing more than a celestial object, part of the Increate’s beautiful painting for some privileged few to witness.

“One of the memories I implanted within you has come to life,” said Paimon. “The moment I first encountered the one who calls himself Brother Augur. I made an oath that I cannot speak much of that situation, but its memory is an innate part of me. When our minds merged, that memory became part of you as well. Over the millennia one learns these loose interpretations of the laws that bind us.”

“What does that memory mean?” I asked.

“I cannot discuss anything with you beyond what you have already seen, but the connections are there for you to find, if you figure out how everything is connected.” The sparks within his eyes brightened. “I can tell you a few things, or at least, I will allow you to consider a new ontological paradigm about purpose. We Goetia understand fate, and that gives us responsibility as its caretakers. The Increate keeps His distance for unfathomable reasons, leaving us children to supervise His great project. Some of my kin do not care to preserve order, but all of us must find a purpose that suits our nature. An immortal without purpose will discover that its existence is useless; it becomes no more than a stagnant mind rotting through eternity, each moment indistinguishable from the last.”

No doubt Paimon could sense my frustration, but the demon lord offered no sign that it bothered him.

“I follow you so far,” I said. “You are the caretakers of fate.”

“Understand that means that I care little about your individual life, or even the collective lives of the human race. If fate wills your souls to be extinguished, so be it. Some, such as Astaroth, believe their purpose is to exterminate mankind. This is contrary to the Increate’s self-evident purpose, the reason He created your cosmos in the first place. To create something that encompasses everything he is capable of and hoping that something beyond Him sprouts from it. Only in this way can the ultimate consciousness learn something new.”

“An experiment?” I asked.

The demon lord chuckled, a sensation that overwhelmed my mind until it abruptly cut off. “Yes. Over an eternity, what happens? Particularly if enough stimuli are applied to the correct places. What is learned? How are the laws of nature manipulated? Now, to understand the brilliance of our supreme creator, you must attempt to appreciate the scale of what He has wrought. An obscure philosopher from your world was executed for positing a line of questioning: what if there is not simply our reality but an infinite number of realities? What if, each time a choice is made, a divergent universe is created in which each possibility is explored? Infinite events occurring over infinite timelines.”

The thought made me pause. It was a hard thing to begin to comprehend. No doubt Paimon was correct about the very idea being suppressed within the Civilized Lands. The implications could inspire an entirely new field of ethics and ideas. The verdant planet captured my attention again: an illusion of the world I lived in, revealing just how small everything I held dear was in the grand scale of things.

“Even the minds of the Goetia are not capable of comprehending the exact nature of your universe, though the conclusion is undeniable,” said Paimon. “The anima is a great project, not only to know everything, but to learn what exists beyond the scope of understanding. Much is possible within the Mental Realm, but each of us immortals exist within it as a singular entity. Over an eternity, all of the Goetia will discover something that pleases the Increate. But that would require an infinite amount of time. Instead, He created the framework for an infinite number of your parallel universes to overlap, and in this way, He will constantly be fed novel stimuli. As such, many anomalies will manifest throughout your reality.”

“Like Brother Augur,” I said.

The bloodviolet sparks of Paimon’s eyes intensified. The pressure of his mind weighed heavy, but he was careful not to crush me. “Precisely. A mortal man who made himself so useful, few beings would dare oppose him. He even sought a bond with Morningstar, an immortal banished from all creation by the Increate Himself.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I cannot reveal such a thing to a mortal Echo. It is far beyond you. But due to his banishment, outside of the minds of the Goetia, he only exists within the memories of a few beings who have questioned us about his existence. As of now, you will become one of them. Morningstar, the One Who Rules, is one of the five original immortals. The power he grants is that over space itself.”

I nodded slowly, absorbing the demon lord’s words. “What is it you wish me to do?”

“We observe,” said Paimon. “Outside of that, do as you wish. Every possibility has already been accounted for. You would be wise to listen to the mortal’s advice, however. Take this opportunity to meditate upon your sword, Dasein.”

Before I could protest that I did not have it on me, the weapon materialized within my hands. Of course. I settled into the lotus position, floating in that vast space, sword held horizontal before me with the flat of the blade resting on the palm of my free hand.

Slipping into a trance was as simple as breathing. Perspective shifted, and I was looking down upon myself, a disembodied soul. Without a second thought I propelled my consciousness into the ivory blade.

Whiteness everywhere. The void? Stretching out my awareness revealed a seemingly endless expanse of nothing. Then a black point appeared, infinitely large and small at the same time, the only thing in existence. A second appeared some distance away. A line emerged from the first point, connected it to the second. The first dimension, length.

The process repeated, forming another line that intersected the original. The second dimension, width.

My perspective shifted again, and now I meditated in the center of these lines. They grew around me, folded, forming a three-dimensional cube like a prison. Depth.

Another shift. Again, I looked down on myself, now seated in the dimensional cube opposed to floating through space. The strain on my mind felt like a tearing—something deeper and more fundamental than a migraine, but similar, in a way. Instead of trying to understand, I observed, and the sense of being split vanished.

A second cube with a second Leones appeared in the space next to the first. Then another formed on either side of those two, then another on either side of those four, and so on until an infinite number of Leones meditated within an infinite number of three-dimensional cubes arranged in a row. My mind flitted through the void, past dozens, hundreds, thousands of Leones. Each one subtly different, an instant younger than the one before, until I saw my fifteen-year-old self, myself as a small boy, myself as an infant.

The fourth dimension. Duration. Time.

I returned to the original Leones cube and looked down the opposite direction: to the future. What could I find out if I traveled along that path? My mind headed that way, then the row of cubes branched off into another direction, then another branched off into another. More and more branches, twisting upon one another, impossible twisting, stretching, straining . . . the fifth dimension . . .

A jolt shocked my mind. I blinked and was once more meditating in Desolada, Paimon by my side. The verdant planet shone in the distance.

“Your mind cannot go down that path,” said the demon lord. “Not yet. If I allowed you to pursue any deeper, you would have been lost forever. Now that you have glimpsed the foundations He laid down, you can begin to comprehend how the Physical Realm is truly the masterpiece of creation. In our arrogance, we Goetia believe we can influence it. Bend it to our purpose.”

Paimon’s laughter shook the universe around me. Threatened to tear my soul asunder. After an eternity it ended.

“Yes,” said the demon lord, voice full of mirth. “The time comes. This will be a memory I shall never forget. Return, Leones Ansteri, and bear witness to something great.”

I took a deep breath, looking about Desolada. “How do I get back to Odena? Should I somehow force myself to wake up?”

“Boy,” said Paimon. “Do not be ridiculous. You are already awake.”

I blinked and found myself standing in the center of the barracks. The last vestiges of light streamed through the windows, shaded the world in white and black and gray. I held my hands out; they looked translucent, as if they were themselves made of moonlight. Another blink, and they appeared solid again.

Not much time left until the realms merged. Unless they already had while I was jaunting about within Dasein. I removed the sword from its scabbard at my side, ran my fingertips down the length of its white blade. What had I witnessed, precisely? A deeper visual representation of dimensionalism, which had made no sense to me as diagrams and formulae on a page? What was I supposed to make of that?

Well, I thought to myself. At least I will have plenty of time to think it over.

May as well go outside and enjoy nature before reality dissolved into some abstract dream. I took a step toward the door.

Perspective shift.

I stood in the middle of Brother Augur’s arboretum. Heavy snowflakes drifted past. His firepit burned white, illuminating enough of the area to confirm most of the color had drained from the world. Hints of brown still stained the wood of his hut. The philosopher himself, seated next to the fire, appeared untouched by the loss of color affecting everything else.

“You have returned to us,” said the philosopher, rubbing his hands together for warmth. He smiled. “Just in time, as expected. While I do not mind missing the beginning, I am afraid my presence is required for the grand finale. Did you learn much from the sword?”

I took a seat next to the philosopher. The white fire produced no flames, more the . . . idea of heat. I copied Brother Augur, rubbing my hands together, enjoying the tactile sensation of calluses rubbing over calluses while I still possessed a sense of touch.

“Maybe?” I said.

“It’s good to never be too sure about this sort of thing.” The philosopher’s voice was smoother and more casual than ever. For the first time, it felt as if he were no longer acting. Or perhaps his mastery of the staccato was just that good. In the end, I did not care either way. “What have you pieced together so far?”

“Not much,” I admitted. “The sword contains some sort of dimensional capability related to time. Maybe to higher dimensions. Not really my field of expertise.”

Brother Augur clapped a hand on my shoulder. “No, I would imagine not. Before the apocalypse occurs, will you indulge me in one last elenctic discussion? Good. What is a tesseract?”

I narrowed my eyes, frowning as I recalled Paimon’s description. “A four-dimensional construct, encompassing time as well as physical reality.”

“If it is something that one can construct, what would one use to construct it?”

I leaned forward, closer to the false-fire, peering into its white depths. “Time. And space.”

The philosopher nodded. “In all of Savra, what two beings are able to harness these forces?”

“Me. And you.” I buried my face in my hands as if I sought something in the darkness there. “But I would never agree to something like this. Merging Odena and Desolada. The end of mankind’s freedom. Even if society has betrayed me, even if I’d be executed simply for existing, I would never sacrifice so many innocents.”

Brother Augur stood. “No. But perhaps one day you would. Open your mind’s eye and look upon me.”

I had tried in the past, but the philosopher had always masked any trace of magic. Now I spread my awareness through the area.

From all directions, from the heavens and the earth, millions of silver threads like moonlight congregated upon the philosopher. I felt more than saw the black threads interwoven with them, forming braids of space and time magic. Immediately I recalled how Dasein had served as the keystone for the tesseract in Amelie in Yellow.

Except this time, Brother Augur was the keystone.

“You have to understand,” said the philosopher, “I would never tell you this if it affected anything in the end. I will not drop the tesseract. Not now and not ever. They say over the course of eternity, everything that can happen, will. In that case, I will not allow an eternity to pass. Once this tesseract finishes merging with the Mental Realm, I will be in complete control of all laws, including time and space. Astaroth has agreed to make me the master of this place, as long as I assist him in his endeavors.”

“Why?” I asked. “What could possibly make you do something so insane?”

He leaned close and whispered one word: