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Prologue: The End

  ? Late Opening Era, worldwide

  The earth ripples with light. Cities flash off and on like fireflies along coastlines - morse code: .

  Phantasmal beings erupt, unshackled from my underbelly - egregores, tulpas, gods, myths. They run wild once again, sweeping through my bodies like poltergeists.

  I am plummeting. My billion bodies are falling away. In New York, where all of this started, I fall, toward the boroughs and the outer boroughs fall away. I am only a million now as I fall toward Manhattan, and as I fall Manhattan disintegrates. The neighborhoods fall away and I plummet toward the tip, toward my bodies waiting in the great tower.

  ...where now I am only my first body only, my voice - what was his name? I lie alone in the arms of my mother. Her blood drips down. She sings me a song. She speaks to me: "It's OK. It had to happen this way." She sings a lullaby about memory.

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  That's it. I must remember!

  With the will of the dying I propel myself outward.

  My bodies return in dozens, then hundreds, thousands, millions. They hop into cockpits of planes that trace smoke across the sky: REMEMBER. They dig up boxes of old childhood photos. They play memory games on iPhones.

  I must remember who or what I am. How I got here. I remember my mother, her eyes:

  -----------------

  ● Post-Opening Era, many years later, the Dreamworld

  The grey-eyed girl looked up.

  -So I was its...?

  -In a manner of speaking. Yeah.

  -That's crazy.

  -I agree.

  -How did I become a mom?

  -Shall I tell you the story?

  -Yes.

  -Meet me here later. I need to go mediate between the cleric archetype and one of the trickster gods.

  -Again?

  -I know, right?

  -OK.

  -OK, goodbye, little cookie!

  -Wait.

  -Yes?

  -Will I be back to myself soon? I would like that very much.

  -To be honest? I hope not. Your former self was dangerous as fuck.

  -Hm. Can you...just tell me the beginning?

  -All right, cuchurrumin, but only the beginning:

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