A gentle song began, it rained lyrics in a digital darkness. The music was about a phoenix, burning away and ashes. It spoke of a girl, the Attractor born to die. Liam was gone, in his place — this place — floated the Oldest. His complex molecular majesty, seen from so close, sparkled with life. As if by magic, everyone in the world connected to the machine, which meant everyone but a handful of religious groups, were now linked on the deepest of levels. Gone were the screens, the contact lenses or the Orbison glasses — they were here. This was Attractive power, it filled and changed the world.

Sophie's power fueled the simulation, and the digital reality was closer to a collective dream. It was impossible to know if non-humans were connected or other worlds. The prevailing feeling inside the dream-simulation was that no one really cared.

The sweet melody made of a sophisticated variation of human piano music filled the void. The piece, some noted, could not be played by only two hands.

"Music," began a solemn voice of the Oldest, addressing humanity. It grew slowly in power. With each beat, its vigor increased, drawing emotions and Rho waves from the audience. "Music," he repeated as the song ended. Then, a strange, faint clicking noise resonated from the deep. It added to the voice, which returned for a sound time with the same song. Then a second new instrument, a windpipe filled with a choral of animal sounds. Other instruments arrived and added to the symphony. A woman's voice broke in two perfect halves, forming a harmony as if twins were singing while holding hands. "Ashes," yelled the two female voices as a third identical voice arrived.

The Oldest was a conductor and in the complete darkness built sounds and words of the rarest of beauty from a mountain of noise. This was an opera of no equal. Chimes and words transformed themselves into the most immeasurably soul-touching music anyone had ever heard.

The sounds fell away, leaving gentle piano notes. The Oldest knew the power of silences, the longing associated with the space between notes. After moments of repose, images began to flood the darkness. A floating cloud of colors and lights with no apparent significant meaning appeared. The cloud, glowing with light, took form around a shell; this was the Oldest's own mind and body. He pulsed as he listened to the music, and then let the image be softly blown away by an invisible wind.

As his alien body faded, there was a stage, an old Greek amphitheater of light-colored granite rocks. If formed in the darkness of space. Around the edges, tall marble columns climbed endlessly into the void of space. Behind the amphitheater, as the music rose again to power, the rocks, one by one, stacked to form a wall with several small alcoves, two of them at stage level and one high above. These included pedestals for statues.

The Oldest knew Sophie would not be watching, so he could do as he pleased. On the right, dressed in a long Roman toga was Sophie's mother carved in beautiful white marble. She was cradling with her arms a baby. But the face of the woman was looking upwards at the alcove above.

As the music and colors increased in the intensity of the void, the second statue at stage level started to take form. It was, as expected a marble of Laurent, Sophie's father, also in Roman garb. He was wearing sandals, and his hand was holding that of Mall-ik, the boy from the Purple. The pair were carved looking up at the alcove, and the young boy was pointing up.

The power of the voice tripled. The people listening were unable to breathe correctly, they felt a weighty pressure on their invisible chests. There was meaning in the music, meaning in the images. In the distance, the constellations lined up and sparkled.

"Let beauty come," said the voice "out of ashes." The chorus repeated itself as the statue of Sophie began to form, but it was filled in symbolism. Her eyes were covered by a blindfold. In her left hand, she held a scale customarily reserved to lady justice. In her other hand, sparkled a diamond and gold ring of keys. They swung and dangled gently in the wind.

A burst of light sparkled out on the statues below, where their hearts stood, like a door, a tiny key opening took shape. From it, light of every color poured out. The light poured from the keyholes out in the galaxy like a laser. Sophie blindly held the keys to the heart of her family below. The music had crescendoed beyond control. It made the Multiverse vibrate.

"Ashes," sang the voice.

Time stood still. The song finally ended as the stage was complete and had taken form. A flat marble copy of a Roman amphitheater floated in the darkness of space. Everyone took a deep breath, unable to know when they would have the chance again.

***

"You, my friends, might have a week left to live. There is a human tradition of giving a prisoner sentenced to death one last meal. This is your proverbial last meal. That is, the kindness I can give you as we flutter out of existence." The Oldest raised his hands. The music resumed. Before him appeared four humans, two to his left, the other pair to his right. Each was dressed in a Roman-era garb. The ladies were silent as Emilio and Laurent shook hands. Emilio turned, passed in front of the Oldest and kissed both ladies on their cheeks. Once done, he turned to the Oldest and hugged the man.

Emilio was untouched by the dire warning or the importance of the situation.

The Oldest opened his hands and in them appeared four large gems, each of a different color. They shone in the encompassing darkness. He handed one to each player. "Collect all four, you win. They can only be given, not taken." Each player grabbed his. "Once given, your game will finally end."

The Oldest looked at the audience, "Choose carefully," he warned.

Three of the players wondered as to the nature of the challenge or the purpose of the game. Emilio, gem in hand, turned to Laurent and with a smile, handed him his diamond. "For you." Laurent took the gem with a smile.

Emilio waved everyone goodbye, sent a kiss as he slowly vanished. "He ranks fourth," said Liam. "Anyone else?" The three remaining players looked baffled as to what the President had done. Laurent looked at both gems and hesitated.

Liam smiled and added, "To all watching, I give a warning, an important warning. You have to decide right now if you want to live out the rest of your natural life or if you want to learn the meaning of life. The only thing that can make you understand the meaning of life, the true meaning is time. If you fear time, close your eyes. If you want to understand time, look at a color, and play."

The stones shone yellow, green, blue, and red, each with equal brightness. Each person watching focused their eyes on one. Only a couple of million closed their eyes. As if Attracted, the world of each person fell away. Some did not fall into a color: the few who had wisely closed their eyes.

***

Sidney, 2178 AD

The Few

Life was great in Australia. Outside, midday sun warmed millions living peacefully on earth. The moon floated in the day sky, shattered into innumerable pieces, a vestige of the Sixth Attraction. The rocks once forming the satellite floated along a disk in a strange formation. Black chunks of ash orbited the Moon's remnants since it had taken the brunt of the force of the Heliocorium tube from the sun.

Boats navigated in the harbor under the watchful eye of what resembled a more substantial, altered version of the American Statue of Liberty. Humans, out of respect, simply called the giant "Sophie." Downtown Sidney, next to the famous building of the Opera House, stood the two thousand foot-high reminder of a young girl who saved the world now over a century ago. It wasn't an original creation, the work was an identical copy of what Liam had placed on the stage of the semi-final. The Attractor's eyes were covered by tissue, and in her hands, she was holding a scale and gold keys. Millions of pounds of gold were used in the most prominent planetary display of reverence in human history.

Tourists arrived here in a strange state of mind. The thousands of daily visitors brought flowers and bird seeds as they all had no way to thank a young prodigy and savior they all missed. The gardens at the base of the large statue were home to thousands of birds. Most were sparrows or bright red cardinals, but over time, the winged population had diversified. Every human knew the story of the Sixth Attraction and how Sophie on her birthday died, saving mankind. This place was, like the Taj Mahal, was a solemn place. The drained body of the young girl after the finale had been flown back to earth and buried here. Even children, every human still felt the weight of the Attractor. The Multiverse even now thanked her by flooding her resting place with Rho waves of grief.

Parents found their eyes filled with tears as soon as the cars parked in the lots surrounding the statue. No one on earth was oblivious to the power that flowed on these grounds. Long gone was the Great Curvature, the God Bias and the God Virus. What remained was a race, evolved and wise, humbly trying to continue learning about the Multiverse.

"Who is Sophie?" asked a young girl, holding her father's hand as they walked under the shadow of the statue. The tall man, frequently so talkative tried to speak but quickly lost his composure. His eyes misted over. Staff, used to these reactions, swooped in to momentarily distract the young girl to give the man time to grieve.

"Sophie is . . ." he tried in vain to say out loud, unable to feel he was alone. The words could not come out. They would not.

In the distance, the guide wearing a dark little outfit got her knees, "What's your name?" She already knew the answer.

"Sophie," replied the young girl.

"What's your second name?"

"Sophie-Marguerite."

"What a beautiful name. I have a gift for you. Let's let your father go in by himself, okay? This is important to him." She looked up and told the man, visibly struggling to control himself. "Sir, we will wait for you." She pointed to the visitor center.

The man, like millions before him, felt powerless. All he could do was honor the girl's memory. Like a young lover walking to the grave of his lost departed, he moved slowly in. Twenty minutes later, he walked out. His eyes were swollen red. The man was emotionally exhausted; barely holding his emotions. In the distance and saw his daughter, she was holding a white plush toy, the dog named Oscar. The man lost it yet again and fell to his knees, sobbing like so many around him.

"Daddy, are you okay? Look what the lady gave me, can I keep him?" asked the five-year-old. "His name is Oscar." The father, unable to check his emotions, thanked the lady and walked back to his car, daughter in hand.

"Are you okay daddy?"

"Of course, honey. You have to be a great girl, your name is important." He bent to a knee and holding both her shoulders told her, "Never forget. Please, never ever forget what she did. Promise me you will remember." The young girl nodded.

***

One old Indian man, cane in hand, walked out of Sophie's resting place. He was also unable to hold his tears. He missed the girl but had the advantage of knowing the legend a bit more personally than the others who came to this place. Today was a better day. He began a long, silent walk. Despite his private notions regarding her long absence, she warmed his heart even now. He looked up at the statue.

He alone could do what he was doing.

It needed to be done.

As he walked, everyone bowed to him. Dogs on leashes sat. On his shoulder, two birds came to rest, one was brown, the other red.

On the hill, next to the Modern Art Theater was a row of nearly a hundred houses. In the sky, cars and small drones flew. One house was his silent destination. He arrived there an hour later and turned to take one last look at the giant Statue in the distance. He sent her a kiss as if to say aurevoir.

On the third floor of the house, a family waited in the master bedroom. In the front, two nurses waited patiently next to the modern ambulance, which, in it's current unfolded configuration, resembled a large, foamy bed. When engaged, it looked more like a missile. There was no real commotion, more of a long wait. The men saw the Oldest, the tall Indian man, walk up the hill as he slowly savored the day. He saluted both of them, who bowed in return. The men knew him. One placed a knee on the floor and reached to kiss his hand. This was Liam, the Oldest, the companion of Sophie. They simply wanted and needed, for themselves, to show genuine admiration.

"Honor Sophie, be strong. Be yourselves." The men heads remained bent, looking at his feet. Liam knew Sophie would not like the statue or what she would consider groveling. But there was respect, grief, and the young prodigy had wanted mankind to wise up. Here, they had. Liam pushed open the small gate and walked up into the house.

He climbed the stairs slowly until he pushed the bedroom's door. A woman, about one hundred and sixty years of age, was at death's doorstep. She was weak, in the bed surrounded by her family. As Liam entered, the family stopped talking.

"Oldest?"

"I must speak with Marisa, your great-grandmother." With his cane, he gestured softly at the woman lying on the ambulance.

"She cannot hear you."

He smiled and pulled a chair to the side of the sleeping woman. He waved his hand, and as if by a miracle, the elderly lady appeared to lose twenty years of age and slowly awoke from her dreams. She opened her eyes and recognized the illustrious guest. "Oldest?"

"Liam. Call me Liam, please. Congratulations, Marisa. You are the last; you've outlasted everyone else."

"What?"

"Yes. You recall the game, back in 2072?"

"Yes. The game. That was a long time ago. I was very young."

"To both of us, yes. If you recall, I asked everyone to pick a color or close their eyes. The semi-finale, Remember?" She nodded. "You closed your eyes. My gift then began to you and all those who closed their eyes as you did. I created this digital illusion, this world," he waved his cane. As he did, the family members vanished like ghosts. "I pretended the game concluded and the earth was saved. To you, my gift was to offer a complete life in a reality where Sophie and her father won, saving the world."

"I . . . "

"Do not speak. The ending has not happened yet. The whole of this life which you have subjectively experienced for a hundred years was a lie, of sorts. You were given your life, a perfect life. You gave birth to children, you played and laughed. On behalf of Sophie, I apologize for the needed deception. To learn about life, you need to live." He waved his hand again, and the walls of the house vanished. "You are," he wriggled his fingers, and she lost a hundred years, "still physically a young lady, beyond these digital borders." Marisa's body returned to its original teenage state.

"What?"

"I cannot know how the Sixth Attraction will end. I fear this world will vanish. My gift to you and the others was to give each of you an entire life, here in this digital world. If you die in a week, you will not have been cheated; I gave you all you ever desired. Anything more that you receive will be a bonus, I suppose."

"This is impossible."

"Count yourself lucky, you chose correctly and did not look at my gems. Those who elected otherwise have learned a much harder lesson."

Liam's rendering of the room, the house, the city, and Sophie's statue was quickly washed away in darkness.

Music played.