The weight of more than a nonillion lives. Back on Earth, I used to watch the presidents of first-class countries make decisions that would change the fate of more than a billion lives across the globe. Such decisions would either have drastic effects on the life of the common man or barely affect those in power or who were well-off.
In my case, the effect was way more extreme. My variant selves had done good and made a sacrifice that even I was having a hard time coming to terms with.
When my older self, who I now came to know and understand was the very first 'copy' mirrored from me as the original, said that we were selfish beings, he wasn't lying. My experiences back on Earth led me to understand one very cruel and harsh truth in the form of this simple saying: 'Every man for himself and God for us all.'
Unless you had family of the same blood heritage or close friends who'd been with you through thick and thin, no one else would give you a rat's ass nor care for you since they were already doing their best for themselves. It was bad to the point that sometimes, though very rarely, it would also apply to those who were family and the close friends I just mentioned.
In short, the world was a shitty place, and living in it was a shitty and tiresome endeavor.
"I'm so glad it did not change," I murmured sarcastically as I stood up in this small and short dilapidated shack I was in.
Currently, my mind, or more precisely my soul and core, felt 'awake' after a very long and groggy slumber. I could recall everything my other variant selves experienced and learned... plus the memories of the current half who was living in this life.
"Well... shit... Looks like we're gonna have a tricky time, Codex... this world, Gaia, is in quite the messed-up situation, man..." I cursed as I crouched and headed towards the hanging door of the shack that barely offered any security, and I stepped out to see my outside world.
In just a few hours, but what felt like eons of time inside my mindscape, I could finally see the new world I found my original and full self in.
One might ask, full self? Well, that was easy to explain because of the concept of soul my first variant had mentioned in passing. A soul, whenever spawned in existence, by default is whole. But due to the laws and rules of existence, it must begin its 'being' within the timeline, the origin timeline. But the catch is, the origin timeline, as linear as it is, must always follow the expansion and contraction of existence, following and growing hand in hand with the state of simply 'moving forward' and 'being'. And since inside the timeline itself there existed the omniverse and into it the multiverse, an ever-expansion and destruction of universes and dimensions, the concept and embodiment of infinity existed.
As a result, a soul simply 'split' into countless versions of itself and randomly grew into different universes but not in the same one.
My case, however, was unique, as mentioned previously. Some fucktards messed up, and now because of this, I was one of the few whole souls to exist in their full form from their spawning point.
As much as I saw this as a curse, it was also a blessing in disguise. Despite being mandated to be the anchor of existence, a role that quite literally began the moment my only two halves combined and became whole, the freedom I had was beyond my imagination.
I could quite literally do anything, with the only constraints being the strength of my current physical body and core. My soul as is, was already at its max level I could even think of. And that was saying something, considering the abundance of knowledge and wisdom I inherited.
"Well, my lord, it was a given considering that Gaia is the 'origin' of numerous other planetary bodies in the multiverse," Codex replied.
"Wait, even planets undergo the soul divergence similar to normal beings?" I asked in stupefaction.
"That's correct, my lord. Despite being a planet itself, Gaia very much has consciousness, you know. Fun fact, the 'Earth' you were on is actually a variant of the very same being we're on right now," Codex replied in a cheery voice.
"Damn, who would have thought..." I said in amazement as I took in my surroundings under the bright blue moonlight of... wait... were those three moons?
I stood at the edge of what could only be described as humanity's abandonment. The slum sprawled before me like an infected wound on the city's flesh—a chaotic tapestry of misery woven from desperation and survival. Makeshift dwellings constructed from whatever materials could be scavenged leaned against each other in precarious harmony. Corroded metal sheets, splintered wood planks, moldy fabric, and discarded packaging had been repurposed into shelters that seemed to defy both gravity and logic.
The pathways between these structures weren't streets so much as narrow, winding channels worn into the earth by countless footsteps. Putrid water collected in stagnant pools, reflecting the bizarre light of the three moons above. The smell hit me like a physical force—a pungent cocktail of human waste, decaying food, unwashed bodies, and something chemical that burned the back of my throat.
Despite the late hour, the slum pulsed with furtive activity. Hunched figures moved through the shadows, their faces hollow-cheeked and wary. The occasional flicker of firelight revealed glimpses of life—a mother nursing an infant, an elderly man sorting through something that might have been food, a group of children huddled together for warmth despite the relative mildness of the night air.
Smoke from countless cooking fires hung in the air like a malevolent fog, obscuring parts of the vista before me. But through that haze, beyond the immediate squalor of the slums, rose the true miracle and monstrosity of this world—the city proper.
Towers of impossible height pierced the night sky, their peaks lost in the low-hanging clouds. Unlike the chaotic organic sprawl of the slums, these structures followed a geometric precision that seemed almost alien—perfect lines and curves of gleaming metal and something that resembled glass but seemed to capture and amplify light rather than merely reflect it. The buildings weren't just tall; they were vast, each one easily the size of several city blocks back on Earth.
Connecting these megastructures was a web of elevated roadways and transport tubes that glowed with internal light, creating a three-dimensional latticework of movement. Vehicles—if they could be called that—zipped along these airways, leaving brief trails of colored light in their wake. The whole system pulsed with a rhythm that reminded me of a circulatory system, the city a living organism and these pathways, its veins and arteries.
The disparity between the squalor at my feet and the technological wonder just kilometers away was so stark it seemed almost deliberate—as if the slum existed not despite the city's advancement but because of it. A necessary counterbalance, perhaps, or a reminder of what happens to those who fail to keep pace with progress.
The sky above, riddled with stars and other celestial bodies in outer space plus the three moons one could see forming a sort of triangular shape, created a scenery that was beyond breathtaking. The moons themselves were a spectacle—each a different size and color. The largest hung low on the horizon, a massive blue-white orb that cast an eerie glow over everything. The second, smaller and tinged with amber, sat higher in the sky. The third, barely a quarter the size of our Earth's moon but vibrantly green, completed the celestial triangle.
The city I was in, a dukedom city among many within this empire I spawned in, was massive. If I used to think the capitals of Earth like Tokyo in Japan were massive, then this... this was fucking enormous. With my enhanced perception despite my weak core, my soul sense could roughly measure out more than 20,000 square miles, literally four times the size of the largest metropolis on Earth.
And funny enough, the previous other half of me was currently living inside the worst of districts in terms of both safety and environment—the slums.
From my vantage point, I could see how the slum I stood in was just one of many such cancerous growths clinging to the underbelly of the great city. They ringed the central metropolis like a tattered hem, each seemingly designated for a different strata of the desperate and disenfranchised. Even within misery, there appeared to be hierarchy.
My immediate surroundings seemed to be the domain of the truly destitute—those with nothing but their laboring bodies to sell, and often not even that. The collection of lean-tos and shacks extended for miles, occasionally broken by slightly more substantial structures that likely served as community hubs or the domains of whatever passed for authority in this lawless periphery.
The occasional flare of unnatural light revealed pockets of technology even here—not the sleek, integrated systems of the city proper, but jury-rigged contraptions cobbled together from discarded components. A group gathered around what appeared to be a heating element, its coils glowing cherry-red in the darkness. Somewhere nearby, a sound system blared discordant music, the rhythm alien but the sentiment behind it—escapism, defiance—universally familiar.
In the middle distance, where the slum began its transition to slightly more structured poverty, I could make out market streets lined with stalls that would come alive with dawn—places where anything and everything would be for sale, including services and substances best not examined too closely. Guards patrolled these areas even now, their weapons primitive compared to what I glimpsed in the city but deadly effective in maintaining whatever passed for order.
And everywhere, watching everything, were devices that could only be surveillance—mechanical eyes mounted on poles, hovering drones the size of hummingbirds, and occasionally, figures in uniform who seemed to observe rather than intervene.
After taking in the scenery before me, I muttered, "Codex, I will need a quiet and safe space..."
"I understand, my lord..." he said, and then suddenly, in front of my vision, a glowing translucent rectangular board appeared.
"Seriously, what a cliché, Codex. Who'd have thought you can do this as well..." I said with a chuckle, the irony of the situation not escaping me.
"Well, it's the most preferred way instead of having you cram unnecessary information for a world we'll be passing soon..." he replied.
In front of me was a topological map with various settings, of course, to switch the view type. It was like Google Maps but in ultra-ultra 8K or whatever high resolution one can encounter. It was so detailed I was even creeped out myself. The best thing of all? I could quite literally see a live feed of my current environs but only at a summary level.
"Seriously, how can you even do this?" I asked in wonder as I observed and learned the map in front of me.
"My lord, please do not forget who or what I really am..." Codex replied in a tense voice.
"As if I would," I scoffed. "It's just that when I and the other variants thought you were a simple holder of existential data and knowledge and just that, y'know... so you doing this is a pleasant surprise," I continued.
"Well, the reason for that is because they are, or rather were, not you, the original. Due to the situation of the fractured original timeline and the spawning of the numerous variant timelines, only those from the original timeline had the proper and correct causality to wield me. That plus I'm very picky with who gets to use the features I offer," he replied in a gloating manner.
And I simply shook my head in exasperation at that. Still, if Codex could provide similar features, it would make everything feel completely wholesome.
"Well, I guess I will learn along the way. For whatever future features you have, let's keep it like this. It feels... nice," I said as I zoomed in and out, looking for a proper location to hibernate accordingly in order to carry out a very, very important task.
On the map itself, there were various descriptions of regions and locations all over Gaia, with detailed information only seen once I zoomed in properly.
"My lord, I'd like to recommend: The Groove Canopy," Codex said as the map automatically zoomed out, and starting from my current position in this city I was in, it shifted to the right north of my current position and onto a large forest from here.
The area highlighted on the map was unlike anything else I could see on the sprawling topography. Where the city was all sharp angles and rigid structure, and even the farmlands beyond it followed the precise geometry of cultivation, this forest—if it could even be called something so mundane—defied such organization.
From the aerial view provided by the map, The Groove Canopy appeared as a vast, circular expanse of deepest green, so dark in places it bordered on black. It wasn't just trees; it was an ecosystem unto itself, with swirling patterns visible even from this high perspective—whorls and spirals of vegetation that hinted at design rather than random growth.
At its center was what appeared to be a massive tree, dwarfing everything around it. Even from the map's perspective, I could tell it was ancient beyond reckoning—a primordial giant that might have been old when this world was young.
"Why here?" I asked curiously.
"Simple. There's a particular being who exists here that will very much welcome your presence and have no qualms shielding you as you progress through your breakthroughs and evolution," he replied.
"Is that so...? Who or what are they?" I asked, now curious.
"To the people of this world, they are unknown; to the guardians of The Groove Canopy, they are their 'god.' To us, however, they are a fragment of an ally we have," he said, and I could make out the slight excitement he had.
"The being in question is a fragment of Yggdrasil, the Universal Tree," he said.
In utter surprise and stupefaction, I realized this story kept getting better and better...
My gaze shifted from the map back to the physical world around me. From where I stood, I could just make out the dark smudge on the horizon that must be The Groove Canopy—a promise of sanctuary amidst the chaos of this new existence.
The three moons had shifted position slightly, their combined light casting long, multi-hued shadows that danced across the slum's uneven landscape. The city continued its relentless pulse, uncaring of my epiphany or plans.
I felt the weight of my emaciated body, the lingering hunger that gnawed at my belly, and the new strength of purpose that flowed through me despite these physical limitations. The journey ahead would not be easy—but then, nothing worthwhile ever was.
"How far?" I asked Codex, eyeing the distance between my current position and The Groove Canopy on the map.
"Approximately two hundred and seventy kilometers, my lord," Codex replied. "For a being of your potential, it would be a trivial distance... once you've recovered a small your strength."
I nodded, collapsing the map with a thought. "Then recovery is our first priority."
"Indeed, my lord. Shall I guide you through the process?"
As I considered his offer, I felt the stirring of countless memories within me—techniques for healing, for gathering energy, for transcending the limitations of physical form. Knowledge that my variants had acquired across lifetimes, now mine to command.
"No," I decided. "I think I know exactly what to do."
I turned back toward the shack that had been my prison and would now become my cocoon. Within those decaying walls, I would shed the weakness of this form and emerge as something new—something worthy of the sacrifice that had been made for my existence.
As I ducked back through the hanging door, the first rays of dawn began to pierce the horizon, setting the edges of the massive city ablaze with golden light. A new day on Gaia. My first conscious day as a whole being.