Pastel Defender Heliotrope

Page Number: 208

Nuremberg Principles

June 20th, 2007

PAGE FOOTNOTES:
For those that have not read the requisite other side of the Pastel Defender Heliotrope coin, Unicorn Jelly, I will offer a short debaffler to help with the understanding of the above.

Tryslmaistan is an alien 'pocket class' universe that is small, dense, and bursting with energy. In size, if it were compared to our own universe of Mundis, Tryslmaistan would only fill a volume of a few light-years across in hyperdimensional 'width'. The 'height' of Tryslmaistan is vastly less, being only, in comparative scale, perhaps a fraction of the size of our solar system, at best. It is like a hyperdimensional sheet of paper, wide and thin, and folded back upon itself in all directions.

The 'suns' of Tryslmaistan are vast, infinitely dark, two-dimensional planes called 'Veils'. The Veils are unimaginably cold, and are shrouded in clouded condensation, an anomaly in this cosmos of thick, space-filling air, and constant, balmy temperature. The Veils act both as heat-sink and source of all energy in Tryslmaistan, taking in heat energy and releasing electanic force, a strange power that comes in three 'colors', not unlike the dual, black & white polarity of electricity in our own universe.

Light in Tryslmaistan is the product of lumons, radiated by the electanically excited elements that make up the tiny sun and moon orbs that orbit every triangular worldplate. Worldplates take the place of planets in Tryslmaistan, they are vast continents that hang, according to the pattern of a Sierpenski sponge, in space according to a set of physical laws that operate within specific ranges of scale.

Natural life, in Tryslmaistan is of an organic crystalline type, and it is diverse, yet universally patterned after the design of an outer membrane, or shell, and an interior sea of protoplasm, which thanks to the energy-rich, mildly anentropic physics, generates internal organs in an ad-hoc manner.

Originally, Tryslmaistan was a clockwork cosmos devoid of change, eternal and quiet. Then the hyperversal rain came.

The universe of Tryslmaistan suffers from a regular natural phenomena, akin to a kind of weather in the hyperspace realm in which universes float. This weather is not unlike a kind of hyperdimensional rainstorm, and it has passed through many varied and alien universes, only to dump lost landscapes upon the worldplates of Tryslmaistan. In every case, these lost beings adapted to their new universe enough to survive, and developed high technology, the ultimate purpose of which was to find a way to open a portal back to their home.

The easiest path to opening a hyperspace gate in Tryslmaistan involves the development of 'trato-yauronic' technology, a science roughly similar to a strange blend between atomic science and quantum science, but unique to its cosmos. The most immediate and simplest result of such research is some variation on a trato-yauronic device, a bomb-like affair that can literally blow a hole outside of normal timespace. Cheap, quick, and by far, the easiest path to take.

This easiest path to the goal of getting home inevitably releases vast energies, always greater than anticipated. Such releases have ever destroyed any worldplate even vaguely near the attempt, and this has caused said worldplate to fracture, and following the unique physics of Tryslmaistan, to fall endlessly towards a universal 'down'. Because of the densely packed nature of Tryslmaistan, this invariably results in the pieces of the fractured worldplate smashing into others, which in turn also break, and so on, until a never-ending cascade begins. Because spacetime wraps around upon itself in higher dimensions, this falling column of debris eventually bites its own tail, and begins to spread out laterally, eventually encompassing the entire universe, destroying it utterly, to the level of dust and boulders.

Over vast time, Tryslmaistan has eventually reformed, as the dust settles and coagulates back into worldplates once again, allowing life to arise once more, according to the the laws of Tryslmaistan physics. This destruction was called 'Stormfall' by human beings, when they too, caused the phenomena.

Of all the myriad species that have fallen into Tryslmaistan, only the humans have ever survived their own error, survived Stormfall, and they did this by becoming friends with the native sapience of Tryslmaistan, the Jellese. Thus the civilization of the HumanoJellese came to be, and it eventually included another species, the Burangidaeni, when they too, fell into Tryslmaistan.

Working together, this civilization reached incredible heights, and eventually found a way to responsibly travel to other universes, to open portals at will, and joined a larger, multiversal, community. As in all vast communities, there are friends and foes, compatible and incompatible societies, the equivalent of peacetime and the analog of war. And where there is conflict, there are many issues, such as ideas of right and wrong, just and unjust, and rules pertaining to all.

In time what was once Humans, Jellese, and Burangidaeni lost any definition of species, or any need for body, and uploaded themselves into a transcendent realm of their own creation, as is the natural destiny of any sufficiently advanced civilization; the construction of what amounts to godhood. Then, of course, the real fun begins.

But, like all such ascending civilizations, there are always many things left unfinished, and many things which haunt, and must in some way be attended to, many accounts that need to be closed, and many debts that eventually need to be paid.

One of those past accounts is the matter of the Ktlikitkak, a conquering, vaguely insectoid species, that come from the vampiric, living cosmos of Ktlikaktl. Dangerous to all universes, a menace across the multiverse itself, they and their universe are one, and that one ever hungers.

What is anyone who fancies themselves ethically evolved and deserving of a post-singularity godhood to do about such a thing?

What is right? What is the ethical way to deal with an implacable and intolerable enemy that must be opposed?

Perhaps the answer may only be found in the soldier that is strong enough to follow their own conscience, and disobey the unjust command.

PASTEL DEFENDER HELIOTROPE
By Jennifer Diane Reitz

A Part Of Jenniverse.com

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